


I'll Teach Her

by luszatheloser



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luszatheloser/pseuds/luszatheloser
Summary: "Screw the rules, I want you, Y/N Mercer"Alex Mercer's sister has as a interesting little relationship with her teacher.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	1. Mr Patterson

You’ve received 2 new messages.

The vibrations of your cell phone awake you and you groan. 

Alex 🤍 : I’m bringing my roomm8s over for dinner tonight  
Alex 🤍 : Be prepared 👋🏼

Alex can never text at a reasonable hour now, can he? 

Nobody but your older brother would text you at 4.30 in the morning, let alone on the same day you start back at school after summer break. 

The horrible reminder had a groan leaving your lips. You flop back onto your pillows.  
Not only do you have to deal with your older brother returning from college, but you also had to deal with going back to school. You would take your overly annoying brother over returning for your final year at high school any day. 

You had just managed to get back to sleep when the ringing of your alarm blasts you awake again. 

Dead. 

You sluggishly pull your school uniform and observe yourself in the mirror. 

Ew. 

You had forgotten how much the short plaid skirt and blazer reminds you of a schoolgirl outfit from a sketchy manga. You swear they do it on purpose, to give the male population an incentive to come to class. 

Running short on time you drag yourself through the empty house and out the door.  
Your absent-minded parents had already left for work, your first day back at school slipping their minds. Unfortunately, Alex inherited their flightiness. 

It’s okay. You are used to being the responsible one in the family.  
Making it to the school in record time, you grab your timetable from the front office and travel to your classroom. 

As you travel through the halls, you can hear girls around working the rumour mill in the way only teenagers can. 

He is so hot! Have you seen him yet?  
The new senior teacher.  
I heard he is only like 20! Do they let guys that young teach? 

Uh oh. 

A new, young, good-looking male teacher? That sounds like a scandal waiting to happen.  
The whispers and giggles grow louder as you reach your classroom. 

Mr Patterson is soo hot! 

Wait a second. 

You glance down at your room assignment with butterflies in your stomach, reading it hesitantly. 

Room 54: Mr. Patterson  
Heck to the yeah. 

You get to see this drama first hand. The only downside is that you might have to deal with a young male teacher whose ego is bigger than the entire planet, but at least you’ll be entertained this year. 

High school girls can be crazy when they have a crush. You can’t wait for someone to embarrass themselves. 

The classroom is mostly full when you enter, only a few seats at the front and back are available. 

You opt for the back. 

Settling in, you take the rest of the last couple of minutes before the bell rings to answer your brother’s ill-timed texts. 

Y/N 🤭 : if you ever text me @ 430 in the morning again I swear to god..  
Alex 🤍 : catch me if you can sucker lol  
Y/N 🤭 : how many people are you bring tonight?  
Alex 🤍 : huh ?  
Y/N 🤭 : you want food? Imma have to cook for you guys..  
Alex 🤍 : there will be five, including myself my lovely sister and we eat A LOT 😂  
Y/N 🤭 : that it? I’m surprised you have friends at all 🙄  
Alex 🤍 : HEY! THAT’S MEAN 😭 

“Texting on the first day?” 

A soft voice interrupts your conversation, coming from directly beside you.  
You jump in surprise and clutch your chest. “You scared me!” 

The boy who was now sitting beside you tilts his head. He’s got his chin propped up on his hand and gives you a soft smile. 

Holy crap, you’ve never seen lips as full as his before. They are perfect. You gulp and examine the rest of him. 

He has soft brown hair which has been pulled away from his face as if he has been running his hand through it. His jawline is sharper than your intellect, but his cheeks are adorably round. Sitting upon those rounded cheeks are a pair of dark round metal glasses. His hands are also the home of multiple rings. 

“Texting in class isn’t good,” he says gently. He’s still smiling, but you almost feel like he is angry. The corners of his gorgeous mouth are turned down. Someone behind him giggles. You haven’t noticed until now that the rest of the class was silent. 

“Um, sorry? I was texting my brother.” You say uncertainty. His attitude is throwing you off. 

“No problem, Ms. Mercer.” He says. 

Ms. Mercer? 

“I’ll be taking this.” 

He then grabs your phone out of your hand. 

WHAT THE HECK?

“Yah!” You start to grab for your phone but freeze when the boy stands. 

Because he isn’t a boy, he is a man. 

And he is also your teacher. 

This must be Mr. Patterson. 

Mr. Patterson places a hand on your desk and leans down to eye level with you. A couple of girls behind him who had been checking out his arse almost faint. 

“I’ve been calling your name for the past two minutes.” He warns in a soft voice. “It’s hard to take roll when you’ve been confirming teenage stereotypes and can’t pay attention to anything but your phone.”

Confirming teenage stereotypes?!

“Excuse me?”

Mr Patterson ignores your growl that’s forced out through gritted teeth, turning to face the rest of the class. 

“Let this be a warning to everyone,” he states firmly. “Cell phones are not permitted in my class. If I see you with it, they will be collected.” He strides back up the aisle to his desk, oblivious to the fact that every female in the classroom is checking out his backside. 

You do have to admit it though, the man has a nice butt. 

Mr. Patterson turns when he reaches his desk and sits on it, facing the class with his legs swinging above the ground. 

He offers a cute smile. “Hello, everyone. I’m Mr. Patterson, and I’ll be your teacher this year. Please take care of me.” 

A girl next to me whispers suggestively, “I would take care of him in a heartbeat.”  
You snort loudly, once again getting Mr. Patterson’s attention. He gives you a narrow-eyed look. 

Someone raises their hand. “Mr. Patterson, how old are you?” 

That darned cute smile is back, and you glare at him. How on earth is he switching between that sexy angry expression and an absolute ball of fluffiness in a two-second gap of time? 

He is giving you whiplash. 

“I’m twenty-two years old,” he says, “but if you don’t mind, please keep your questions relevant to the class.” 

Another hand shot up. “So are you single?”

That girl’s heart must be exploding as a dark smirk spreads across Mr. Patterson’s mouth.  
“That’s private,” he says with a wink. “Next question.” 

At that moment, you know that every girl in here better be careful; it would be easy as pie to fall for him. 

As for you, you just hope that you don’t kill him before the year is over.  
You seem to have enemies with Mr. Patterson.


	2. Luke

You have managed to cook enough food for a small nation. The scents filling the house. You hope this will be enough to feed Alex and his roommates, but if they eat like Alex, well then it won’t be. 

A pounding on the door summons you out of the kitchen, accompanied by your brother’s screaming, “Y/N open the door!”   
His stupid laugh loud even though there is a door in between you. 

Sighing, you trudge to the door. As soon as you open the door Alex hugs you then pushes past, gesturing for the others to follow. You didn’t get a good look at them as they all speed past you into the kitchen.   
“Where is mum and dad?” Alex asks in between mouthfuls. The meal you worked so hard to cook is disappearing before your eyes, faster than you can even think. 

"Out? Who knows," you reply absently. "Are you going to introduce the random dudes eating all of my food?"

"Oh yeah! This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Reggie” 

A gorgeous brunette with cheeks stuffed with food gives you a smile. 

“Willie,” 

Dimples. You almost coo at the man’s adorable smile, dimples softening his angular face framed by long brunette hair. 

“And Julie”  
A stunning woman with curly brown hair that sits on her shoulders. 

Woah. 

“Hi everyone,” you giggle. “Nice to meet you, hope you enjoy the food.” 

“Thank you, Y/N!” they all chime happily. 

You giggle again and remove yourself to go lock the front door. As soon as you leave the room you can hear whispers coming from your brother’s friends. 

“Your sister is cute, Alex.” 

“And she can cook too, might just have to swap siblings”

“Yah! Willie that’s harsh dude”

Blushing, you hesitate to go back into the kitchen. You were flattered but you didn’t really want to face them all again. You're about to go back in when you hear one of the boys shouting, it sounds like Reggie

“Luke, you missed Alex’s sister! She is so pretty?”

“Is that right?”

That voice.

You stop, tilting your head ever so slightly. Why does that voice sound so familiar? Clearing your throat, you finally pluck up the courage to enter the kitchen, only to find Alex and Reggie with their backs to you on either side of a shorter man. 

His fluffy brown hair tucked away under an orange beanie. 

“No way” You whisper to yourself. 

Alex hears you and turns around with a massive grin. “Y/N! Come here! Meet Luke.” 

The shortest out of the four men turns around and your heart stops dead in your chest. 

“Mr. Patterson?”

“Ms. Mercer?”

Both of you froze on the spot, Mr. Patterson out of shock from seeing you and you because outside of school he looked so.. different. Hotter. 

Mr. Patterson, or Luke as he had been introduced to you, blinks his eyes at you and opens and closes his mouth like a fish.   
You have the same reaction. 

He is dressed in black jeans with chains hanging on the side and a white cut off tee, showing off his bare arms. The glasses have been removed and bracelets and more rings have been added to his hands. A long chain with a stone attached hangs around his neck. Any trace of a cute and innocent side has fled, leaving behind an unbearably hot edge man. 

You gulp. 

Luke curses. 

“Do you two know each other?” Julie asks curiously as she continues to fill her mouth with food. 

“He is my teacher!” you shriek. 

The others burst out laughing. 

“Lukie, you’re Alex’s hot sister’s teacher?” Reggie wrinkles his nose up and chuckles. “Kinky.”

Luke’s lip twitches and he laughs. 

“No!” You screech angrily. “In no way is that kinky!” 

“OMG! What if they got together, like in some drama show?” Reggie howls, and the other boys echo his laughter. 

Luke’s smile shows a little teeth now. 

“You were texting in my class. I’ll give you detention if you do that again.” 

"Oooooh," all of the boys say. 

Glaring, you cross your arms over your chest and huff.

"I'm never letting any of you eat here again."

"Y/N's an innocent little potato," Alex giggles. "She doesn't know how to do anything like that, especially with a teacher."

Alex Mercer, you are so dead. 

Making sure that Alex receives the furious message through your laser-like glare, you stomp out of the room and slam the door to your bedroom. 

Those idiots. 

How are you supposed to face him at school tomorrow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH okay firstly thank you for reading this. I've never really written anything but I really liked this idea so I hope you all stick around. And secondly I hope you love this story!


	3. Check It Out

The chalk screeches loudly on the blackboard, sending a painful sound pounding through your eardrums.  
You wince and glare at the red headed man who's in control of the white stick that's producing the noise. 

Almost as if he can feel your irritation, Mr. Patterson smirks as he finishes writing the problem and faces the class.

His fingers tap the chalk gently against his forearm.

“Is there anyone who wants to volunteer to solve this problem?” Mr. Patterson asks the class in amusement. 

When no one raises a hand, he laughs like he's been expecting it.

"That's what I thought. Ms. Wilson? Would you mind coming up here please?"

Carrie Wilson grins in catlike satisfaction at receiving his attention. She's that one girl that every guy is after, but Carrie's always after someone too. It seems that she's set her sights on the unfortunate Mr. Luke Patterson.

Hiking up her short skirt to make it even shorter, she struts up the aisle to the front of the classroom, making sure to widen the sway of her hips as she goes.

Carrie gently takes the chalk out of Mr. Patterson’s outstretched hand and brushes her fingers along his palm. 

His full lips twitch in amusement.

As the girl moves to press the writing utensil to the board, she drops it.

And from what you see, it's 100% on purpose.

Now she has an excuse to lean over, giving Mr. Patterson and the entire class a flash of her lacy black underwear.

You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold in the disbelieving laughter threatening to spill out.

"Oops," Carrie says daintily. She bats her thick, mascara-coated eyelashes at the young teacher and curves her lips up into a seductive smile. 

You have to tell your friend, Flynn, about this later. It's too hilarious to pass up.

Taking your phone out, you subtly try to position it beside your textbook to take a picture as proof.   
The screen catches a ray of sunlight from the window just perfectly, sending a flash of light through the classroom.

Mr. Patterson notices instantly. 

Trying to avoid his gaze, you slip your phone into your lap and give him an innocent look, which he doesn't fall for.

He abandons the girl at the front of the classroom and wanders in your direction, calmly. Too calmly. 

With his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulder relaxed, but his eyes are glued to you. His words from last night echo in your head forebodingly.

You were texting in my class. If you do it again, I'll give you detention.

Well crap.

Mr. Patterson squats down in front of your desk and folds his arms across the flat surface. 

He holds out his hand and says, "Ms. Mercer, if you would."

The tone of his voice is so arrogant and smug, the emotions equally reflected in his eyes, and you grit your teeth. It's like he's been waiting to catch you for something. 

You puff air out of your nose and angrily slam your phone into his palm. 

"See me after class," he commands next. 

Then he stands, sending Carrie back to her seat as he makes his way to the board and continues the lesson.

• • •

After class, you wait until everyone to file out of the classroom before you approach his desk. Your phone placed front and centre, directly in front of the smirking teacher seated behind the desk. 

Mr. Patterson picks up your phone and swings it precariously between two fingers. 

"I think you might be my trouble student this year, Ms. Mercer," he mocks.

You can tell that he's enjoying this. 

"That's two times in two days." He slides your phone into his pocket and points to a couple of cardboard boxes that are stacked in the corner of the room. "You can unload those, please."

You cross your arms defiantly. "Aren't I supposed to go to detention?"

Mr. Patterson stands and leans over his desk, getting uncomfortably close to you. He cocks one eyebrow arrogantly. "This is my punishment for you. I have this feeling that sitting in a room for an hour and half with nothing to do but read isn't much of a punishment for you."

Well, he isn't wrong. You've finished all of your work for classes, so detention really would be you reading happily for two hours.

Glaring, you stomp over to the boxes and grab the first one. Lugging it onto a desk, you grumble at the weight of it.

"What is this stuff anyways?" you ask as you open up the first box. There are various objects inside, staplers and books and pencils.

"Office supplies," Mr. Patterson murmurs absently. You glance back and see him scribbling something in a large leather-bound book, looking totally engrossed in the action.

Sighing, you begin to unload all of the random things he has stuffed in the boxes. The sound of his pencil scribbling is a constant background noise to your work. 

You can't help but long for your earbuds, which you accidentally forgot to bring to school this morning. It would be so much better to be listening to music rather than your teacher writing. 

You find some empty file folders in the bottom of the box and bend down to put them into the lowest drawer of the filing cabinet. The cabinet is old and sort of rusty so the handle to the cabinet is stuck. 

Hissing under your breath in frustration, you bend down lower and yank on it hard. It finally comes unstuck.

"Wow." You realize that Mr. Patterson’s pencil has stopped scratching against the paper just as his voice fills the classroom. "I never would've thought, Ms. Mercer..."

You stand up straight and face him, frowning. There's something in the tone of his voice that you don't like.

“I'm sorry?"

Mr. Patterson rolls his shoulder smoothly and clasps his fingers behind his head, leaning back in his chair.

You definitely, 100% do not notice the way it stretches out his lean body and makes his impressive biceps strain against his dress shirt. Nope. You won't see that at all. 

Mr. Patterson cocks one eyebrow and bites his full lower lip. "Lace. I took you as more of a silk girl, but I like it."

Lace? You stare at him in confusion for a split second before it finally hits you. 

Gasping, you uselessly try to tug down your skirt as if that will help him unsee what he's talking about. 

You just pulled a Carrie and flashed your teacher a good look at your underwear.

And he called you on it.

You're such a confused mixture of outaged, infuriated, and panicked that you don't know what to do with yourself. You feel like a mini volcano with all of the emotions building up in you, two seconds from exploding all over Luke Patterson’s face.

His laughter isn't helping the situation. 

Fed up with it all, you decide that the safest move is to just leave. You gather your things quickly as Mr. Patterson continues to laugh at your expense. 

He doesn't speak to you until you're already walking out the door with heavy stomping footsteps.

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Mercer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting all these chapters as I have them saved in a google doc and just want to put them out there so y'all aren't waiting so long to read them :))


	4. Blackmail Material

When you get home, you throw yourself on your bed and scream at the top of your lungs into your pillow. You feel bad for taking your anger out on your loyal sleeping companion, but you don't have another outlet for all of the emotions bubbling up inside of you. 

Your mom's head peeks in the door to check on you, but you simply wave a hand at her without lifting your face. 

You hope you accidentally suffocate yourself. 

How can someone be so attractive and irritating at the same time? He makes you want to attack his perfect mouth with your own as you simultaneously choke the life out of him. Those stupid cute round cheeks and that idiotically perfect jawline and just...everything. 

Luke Patterson. 

Everything about him is so attractive except for when he opens his mouth. 

That's when the murder plans and strangulation come into play. 

That's when you want to kill him.

You continue to lay there with your face stuffed in a pillow as you think hard about what you should do. Maybe you can ask to transfer classes. Maybe you should transfer schools.

Maybe you should ask Alex for some university blackmail to keep the man off of your back for the rest of the year. 

He had to have done something stupid in college, especially if he was a friend of your brother's. Some kind of drunken video that he regrets so much that he'll cut you some slack and not watch you like a hawk during class, waiting for you to screw something up. 

If things continue on like the past two days have, you'll never get through your final year. You'll be in detention every day, then you'll have to see him whenever Alex brings him over. 

There's virtually no escape from the man.

Your door cracks open again and your mother enters, hesitantly. The landline phone is clasped in her hand and she eyes you like a wild animal that might strike at any moment. 

"It's for you," she tells you and hands over the phone. As you answer it, she scurries out of the room.

"Hello?" you mumble tiredly into the speaker. Your emotions have been completely drained within the last couple of hours of being stuck in the same room with Mr. Patterson.

"Y/N!" Alex screams in your ear. You wince and hold the speaker a good foot away from your throbbing eardrum.

"Hi Alex," you sigh. 

"I have something of yours!" he crows. 

You frown. "What? What do you have?" 

"Well, I don't have it now, but it's on its way here. Luke told me that you forgot your cell phone in detention today." Alex’s voice has a suggestively teasing lilt to it. 

You groan in misery as you realize that you did indeed leave your phone.

"I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll bring it to me?" you ask sweetly. 

Alex starts laughing hysterically. 

You'll take that as a no.

"I'll text mom the address of our house," Alex tells you. "You can come get it. Luke should be home by the time you get here."

Well that's just wonderful.

• • •

Luke's POV

Luke's wrist twists as he rotates the key in the lock, opening up the front door of his shared home.

His head pounds dully after a long day stuck in a room with a bunch of immature high schoolers who, although they're not much younger than him, he far surpasses on both maturity and intellectual levels. 

The door creaks open and he enters, closing it behind him and shuffling through the entrance hall. He dumps his keys onto the table beside the door and reaches into his pocket for his cellphone. As he does, his fingers brush a smaller, unfamiliar rectangle flattened against his own.

Y/N's phone. 

He grins.

Seeing Y/N's flustered and angry expression as he calls her out in the middle of class might become an addiction if he isn't careful. The way her cheeks tint rose and those soft-looking lips of hers part in outrage makes his heart race in a way he hasn't felt before.

Pissing her off is such an adrenaline rush. 

And it's not like he'll ever get in trouble for it considering that her brother is his closest friend and roommate and, from what Alex's told him, their parents don't pay attention to much.

Happy with his conclusion, Luke loosens up his tie as he walks straight through the empty common room and into his bedroom. Next door in Alex's room, he can hear voices.  
One sounds feminine and the other masculine. Alex must have a friend over. 

The others are probably out working. He guesses he's alone for the evening. 

Again.

Sighing, Luke unbuttons the top few buttons of his dress shirt and wanders back into the living room.

Ramen? He nods to himself and starts into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when Alex's door opens.   
Out stomps an angry Y/N with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. 

Luke’s body heats a little at the sight, an involuntary grin spreading across his lips. Why does seeing her angry get him so fired up? He doesn't know, but he doesn't care either. 

All he knows is that he wants to see more.

• • •

Y/N's POV  
"Not even one tiny drunk video?" you beg on your knees to Alex. "Not even a drunk text?!"

Your brother laughs and shakes his head at you. 

"Luke's got a high alcohol tolerance, Y/N," he says. "He doesn't get drunk very often." 

You huff in frustration, standing back up to face your brother. He's not helping at all, insisting that Luke's a responsible drinker and good at keeping his female conquests private and secret, although Alex did admit that he believed there had been quite a few conquests. 

You can't believe it, but what did you expect? This is a man that wants to be a teacher for the rest of his life. You guess that being responsible and level-headed are good qualities for a teacher to have.

"Fine," you grumble angrily. "Don't help me." 

Alex sighs and rubs his face a little, smile gone. 

"Look, I honestly don't even know if there is any dirt to dig up on Luke," Alex tells you. "But your best chance is to look in his little dream book thingy."

"Dream book thingy?" you question. 

Alex hums in confirmation. "He likes to draw, and he has this little book that he draws all of his dreams in. I guess there might be some dreams, if you know what I mean. He is a man, after all. If you have that and take a picture or something, it might give him some incentive to leave you alone." 

You nod slowly. That might actually work. 

"Okay," you say. "Where does he keep it?"

Your brother shrugs nonchalantly. "Who knows? I've only heard about it, not seen it."

Of course. Your brother can't actually help you make progress, because that would be ridiculous. You grind your teeth together and glare at him. "What good is it to know he has it but not know where he keeps it?"

Alex shrugs again. 

"You're no help," you growl, turning to stomp out of his room.

His unhelpfulness is too concentrated in the enclosed space of his room for you to stand. 

You mumble under your breath in complaint about your brother, not stopping until a pair of black dress shoes land in the corner of your vision. 

You gulp. 

Looking up, you see your infuriating teacher leaning casually against the doorway to the kitchen, a smirk gracing his lips. 

His tie is gone and his shirt is partially unbuttoned, hair messy and sleeves rolled up his forearms. He looks ruffled and rumpled and completely different from his normal clean-cut appearance at school.

"Oh, Mr. Patterson," you say, eyeing him wearily. "I didn't see you there."

He strolls toward you with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks, looking you up and down thoroughly. 

"Y/N, babe," he murmurs in that soft, melodic voice. "We aren't at school anymore. Call me Luke."


	5. Phone Fine

Holy crap.

You glare at your teacher, Luke, as he stands there and grins at you. You hope that the anger in your eyes will disguise the hot blush that you can feel spreading across your cheeks.

"I don't really think that's appropriate, sir," you say mockingly and cross your arms. 

Luke throws his head back and laughs, making his hair shift attractively and fall into his face.

You want to touch it.

Bad Y/N, no you don't!

"Come on, loosen up," he says. "We're going to see each other a lot outside of school and I don't want to have to call you Ms. Mercer all of the time." 

You refuse to acknowledge that, instead huffing out, "I think you have something of mine."

Faking a surprised look, he says, "Do I?" 

You roll your eyes and hold out an impatient hand, tapping your foot. 

Luke scoffs and sticks a hand in his pocket, pulling out the familiar blue-encased box that is your phone. "Oh, this?"

When you make a grab for it, Luke whips it out of your reach and tucks it in the back pocket of his slacks.   
"Yah!" you shout at him.

He pouts cutely at you. "You're being a little rude, Y/N, so I think I'll just keep this with me."

Why does he do this?! 

"I came all the way over here to get it, just give it here," you say angrily while holding out your hand again.

Luke thinks for a second. "No."

"What?" you shriek.

He nonchalantly strolls toward the kitchen, making his uncaring attitude abundantly clear to you. Watching him walk away from you like he doesn't have a care in the world, it does something to you.

It makes you snap. 

As fast as your feet can carry you, you charge like a bull at the arrogant man. He must hear your footsteps because he glances over his shoulder, eyes going insanely wide as he sees you barreling toward him.   
"Holy-" he yelps, shooting off into the house like a rocket with you hot on his tail.

You don't stop to think about how ridiculous the situation is as you chase your laughing teacher around his house.

It's obvious how unfamiliar you are with the space as Luke agilely avoids tables, lamps, and various prices of furniture while you repeatedly slam into things. 

He manages to get a little bit of a lead on you, leaping over the couch and scrambling into the kitchen. You slam through the door behind him and slide on the tile, somehow cutting Luke off from his path to the door that leads to the hall. 

He backtracks and heads the other way, which you again deftly slide in front of. He's trapped in the kitchen now, standing still while considering his options. There's a crazy grin on his face. 

"Give me my phone," you command, to which he shakes his head. Every time you take a step forward he moves back, until his back is against the refrigerator. 

You aren't really sure why he's running from you; he could easily overpower you if he tried. Pushing the thought away, you reach out for the third time and prompt him to action. 

"Give me my phone," you force out from between gritted teeth. 

"No."

"Mr. Patterson!"

"It's Luke," he laughs. 

"Give. Me. My. Phone."

"Ms. Mercer, there's a $15 dollar fine for phones confiscated during-"

AH!

You give up and lunge at him, shoving your hand into his back pocket because desperate times call for desperate measures. 

You ignore the fact that you're basically groping your teacher as you dig through his pockets in search of your phone. His back pockets are totally empty.

What the heck? You saw him put your phone in here. 

"Y/N," he laughs, trying to stop your searching hands.  
You yank his hand away and turn the scavenger hunt to his front pockets because you know that your phone is here somewhere.

As you dig around, your fingers brush something. 

"Mm. Watch where you're touching, babe," Luke says breathlessly. "You don't want to start something you can't finish."

You withdraw from his pockets with wide eyes, holding your hand against your chest. 

Crap, you didn't mean to touch anything important down there!

It's then that you notice it. 

Your cell phone.

Clutched in his right hand. 

You squeal and lunge for it but Luke sees you coming, holding the object up above his head. Even though he's not very tall, he's tall enough that you can't reach it without getting on your tiptoes. 

You do, standing on your highest tippy-toes to reach for it. Your weight tilts forward until you're slightly resting against his chest as you strain for your phone.  
You're so close. It's been a long battle but it's almost over. 

"I'll excuse the $15 dollar fine, Y/N." His whisper shocks you with how close it is. You look at him and fully realize just how small the distance between the two of you is.

Inches. 

No, even smaller than that. 

So close that when his breath brushes your mouth, it's still hot. 

The surprise causes you to lose your balance and tilt forward so you're pressed against him. 

He doesn't try to help you balance. 

"I'll excuse the fine, but you have to pay me with something else," Luke murmurs. His eyes are dark and a suggestive smile is tilting up the corners of his full lips that you just can't stop staring at. 

They look kind of different at this distance, more like they would be firm instead of soft. And they're kind of shiny, which makes your stomach flip over in a weird way that you haven't felt before. 

"What can you give me, Y/N?" he whispers to you.

Escape.  
Escape.  
Escape.

"Nope," you squeak and smash your hand into his face. 

Your finger almost goes up his left nostril as you push against his face and lever yourself away from the very attractive man who is also your teacher. Use your head Y/N! 

Your sudden attack on his face makes Luke drop the hand that's holding your phone as he grunts and tries to breathe under your palm. 

You successfully snatch the device from him and run from the kitchen, screeching at the top of your lungs, "ALEX!" 

"Yah!" Luke hollers behind you. 

You flee back into your brother's room and tackle the startled man, clinging to him like a koala.

Luke comes running in seconds later, expressing a strange mixture of irritation and amusement. You hide behind your older brother and eye your teacher from your safety zone.

Alex groans. "What did you do, Y/N?"

Your response is cut off by Luke.

"She sexually harassed me!" he yells. "She stuck her hands in my pockets and felt me up!" 

What?!

"Y/N?" Alex turns around with a massive grin on his face. "My innocent little potato did that?"

Wasawskdkdmdm

"IgotmphonethanksAlexIllseeyiulater!" you scream in a rush.

Then you shoot out the door and scamper out of their house, far away your evil brother and his irritating roommate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to get all the chapters out as fast as I can. just editing as I go along.


	6. Passing Notes

Luke's POV

It's a normal afternoon in Luke's personal detention room, empty except for him and his favorite trouble student. 

Y/N's at her desk with her nose buried cutely in a book and Luke's at the front of the classroom, sketching her secretly in his dream book. 

He takes care to lightly trace the shape of her fingers that are tucked under her chin and her eyelashes that are casting tiny shadows across her cheekbones.

And her lips.

Those tinted lips that look like they would perfectly connect with his if he tries. He really wants to try. 

He's more detailed in drawing those, perfectly copying the gentle pout and slight part between them that he wants to taste so bad. 

As if she can feel him watching her, Y/N glances up and makes eye contact with him. The lips that he's been concentrating on change shape, curving into a smug little smile. He swallows and does his best to casually close the book without drawing her suspicion. 

Y/N gets up and saunters in his direction. The way her hips sway in that uniform skirt that's short as heck drives him crazy, but he tries to hide it. Staring down hard at his closed book, he gulps.

He has to hide it.

"Mr. Patterson?" Her soft voice is so close to him. 

Composing himself, he glances up and smiles cheerfully at her. She's really close to him, leaning on his desk. "Ms. Mercer? Can I help you?" 

She scoffs. "Ms. Mercer?" Leaning in, she giggles and places a gentle kiss on the very tip of his nose. "It's weird hearing you call me that, Lukey." 

He's so shocked that he can't move, simply staring at the beautiful girl as she moves around his desk to stand directly in front of him.

He barely even reacts when she jumps into his lap and curls up to his chest like a little kitten. His arms go around her waist automatically and hold her to him. 

He can't believe this is happening. 

He also can't believe how much he likes it. 

"I miss you at home." Her fingers are playing with a button on his dress shirt. "Will you stay over tonight?"

Stay over? Heck yeah. 

He grins at her in amazement and hugs her a little closer.

"Luke," she whispers. 

Her face is only inches away from his and she's staring at his mouth. Licking his lips, with his heart pounding like crazy, Luke places a gentle hand on her jaw and guides her mouth to his.   
Their lips connect like matching puzzle pieces, fitting together and mounding perfectly.   
He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss as he holds her closer, cuddling her to his chest so he can-

Beep beep beep beep!

Startled out of sleep, Luke comes to consciousness with a heavy exhale and blinks. 

Weak morning sunlight creeps through his bedroom window and sends soft highlights over his figure on the bed.

He's wrapped up and tangled in the bedsheets, bare-chested and splayed out on his stomach as wide as he can go. 

His fingers are fisted around handfuls of the sheets.

Sometime during the night he shed his shirt and he isn't really sure where it is now. 

His alarm rings softly in his ears.

It's so hot.

Remembering his dream, Luke groans and covers his eyes in misery.

He's almost disgusted with himself for what he's just experienced, no matter how much he enjoyed it or how satisfying it was. 

He cannot, cannot have a dream about one of his students ever again. Especially the one student that's his best friend's little sister.

That's so sick.

With his alarm persisting in the background, he drags himself out of bed and gets dressed, moving into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. 

Alex and Willie are already awake.

"Morning Luke!" Alex greets with his usual cheerfulness. "Are you okay? You don't look like you slept very well. Did you have a bad dream?" 

No, a really good one actually. About making out with your little sister. 

Luke grimaces and shakes his head, tiredly moving toward the coffee pot with single minded determination.

"Trust me, Alex, you don't want to know."

• • •

Y/N's POV

"Ms. Mercer, come see me after class."

You groan at the familiar words coming out of your teacher's smugly smirking mouth. Luke, who's standing in front of your desk, taps a finger on the wood surface before returning to his customary teaching position. 

You aren't sure what you've done to deserve detention this time; it's been something different every day. From having your phone out to "dozing off" in the middle of class, Luke has found an excuse to give you detention almost every day for the last week and a half since school started.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say that he likes spending time with you. In all reality, though, you have this feeling that he gets a kick out of making you angry. 

Every time you're forced to hand over your cell phone or watch that stupid smug smile and hear his stupid pencil scratching as you do chores for him around the classroom, you can feel the happiness vibrating off of him in waves. 

You really don't understand.

You have to find that book so he'll leave you alone.

Class ends with a shrieking bell, allowing all of the other students to spill out of the classroom and into freedom. 

You watch them, wistful. 

After everyone clears out, you trudge up to your teachers desk and prepare for whatever stupid task he has for you today. 

Luke grins at you as you walk up. 

"What did I do this time?" you grouch. "Breathe too loudly? Blink too much?"

He clicks his tongue and holds up a folded piece of paper to your face. "Passing notes? Not allowed." 

You throw your hands up in the air in exasperation because you've never seen that paper in your life. 

You didn't pass any notes. However, when you look a little closer, your name is written on the front of it.

"Let's see what it says, hm?" Luke hums happily to himself as he unfolds the paper and reads the writing inside. 

His smile drops abruptly.

"What is it?" you ask, alarmed by his sudden change in attitude. 

Clearing his throat loudly, he slams the note inside the cover of the book on his desk and presses it closed. 

"You don't need to see that," he says quietly.

With your curiosity piqued, you frown and quietly ask, "What am I supposed to do today?" 

He shakes his head and blinks, like he's disoriented and trying to get his brain on track.

"Just, uh...go read or something. I don't care." 

Huh. 

You shrug and wander back to your desk, pulling out a book. After you read for a while, Luke gets up from his chair.

"I'm going to the restroom. Don't do anything stupid," he says before leaving you alone in the room.

That note is up there. 

You glance hesitantly at the door, chewing on your lower lip. Should you do it? He'll probably never know…

Besides, that note is addressed to you. You have a right to see what is in if.

Nodding to yourself, you get up and scamper to his desk, opening up the book. There's the note, folded neatly into the binding with your name scrawled on the front.

You grab it and unfold it, noting that the writing on the front looks like a female's flowing script.

Inside, you read the writing and start blushing furiously.

No wonder Luke didn't want you to see it.

There's a crude drawing inside of a stick figure in a skirt being pinned up against the wall by another figure wearing tiny, round glasses. You gulp as you read the words scratched below.

Mr. Patterson’s staring at you, Y/N Mercer.  
Did someone have a little too much fun in detention yesterday? ;)


	7. Aren’t You Attracted Yet?

“You just can't listen to me can you, Y/N?"

Holy-

You clutch your heart as it almost jumps out of your chest, your body flinching in surprise. That scared the crap out of you! How does he move so quietly? 

You send an innocent glance toward the young brunette teacher, who's leaning a shoulder against the open doorway with a bemused look on his face. 

He strides toward you and grabs the paper out of your hand, using the empty fingers of his other hand to gently close the brown book. 

You frown. You've already seen the note, but he keeps moving the book further and further from you, putting his body between you and it.

Like he's protecting it.

Pushing the book away, Luke faces you fully and crosses his arms. He pinches the note between two fingers, dangling it in front of your face the same way that he's done with your phone countless times. 

You sigh and squeeze the bridge of your nose because he gives you a headache. 

"I already saw it," you say pointedly, motioning to the note.

He laughs. "I know that. So, what do you think?"

Scrunching your nose up, you give him a confused look. "About what?" 

You don't like the way his eyes darken and how a touch of arrogance works its way into his smirk. It makes him look so...dangerous. 

And hot.

Not that you would ever notice if he was hot or not. Because you wouldn't. That would be very wrong. 

"About the note. The drawing." Luke places a dramatic hand on his chest and winces, adopting a look of fake panic. "Somebody's onto us." 

You scoff, giving him a dry look. "As if."

"What?" he laughs. "Are you implying something, Y/N?"

"It's Ms. Mercer, Mr. Patterson," you tell him. "And I'm not trying to imply anything, other than the obvious."

Luke half-sits in the desk with an amused grin in his face, watching you. The note is still in his hand.

He sits in between you and the book.

You take a step back from him, trying not to blatantly eye the book with suspicion.

Is that his dream book? Why is he so protective of it?

"The obvious being...?" he hedges, distracting you from your thoughts.

Pointing a finger at the paper square he's holding, you bluntly say, "That would never happen. Isn't it obvious?"

He laughs hard.

So hard that he conveniently leans back against the table and pushes that sketchy book another couple of feet away. 

You shake your head because if he's trying to be subtle, he's doing a poor job of it. It also makes you a little angry that he's laughing at you. You hate people laughing at you. 

Gritting your teeth, you give him a nasty glare. "What's so funny?" 

He keeps laughing, even louder if that's possible.   
You set your hands on your hips and face him with a widened stance, fully and truly pissed off now. Can he be any more annoying? You can feel in your soul that he's doing this on purpose. He knows it makes you mad. 

He must know. 

"Are you saying that I'm not attractive Ms. Mercer? You're not attracted to me?" Luke grins so wide that you're surprised his eyes don't stay squeezed into those tiny little slits for the rest of eternity. 

Trying to focus on the ego shining through his words instead of the question itself, you roll your eyes. 

"Two different questions there. Are you attractive? I guess to some people, maybe. A very small amount of women probably find you attractive." 

You're lying through your teeth and you and he both know it. His smile doesn't fade at all at your words, only changing again to that dark and dangerous smirk. 

"However, I'm not one of those women." 

The final words that you force from your mouth are confident and strong, which you're extremely proud of considering the fact that you're bluffing. He's gorgeous and extremely attractive, not only to you but also to every female on the face of the planet. Probably some of the males, too. 

You just don't want his head any bigger than it already is. 

"Oh, you're not one of them?" His head tilts to the side, putting his cocky smile at an angle that makes your stomach roll. 

But you stand your ground and say lightly, "nope."

"Hm." Luke stands and moves toward you.

Crap. What now? 

He hangs back a little from you, his eyes roaming up and down your form in a way that makes you want to crawl inside a massive parka and never come back out. 

"They make your uniform skirts so short." His voice is softer than before, but somehow darker. "Too short. It doesn't do anything but distract all of the guys in class." 

Eyeing you appreciatively, Luke takes his fingers through his messy hair and allows his tongue to glance across his lower lip as he admits, "It doesn't help the male teachers focus either." 

His gaze meets yours.

Well heck, you aren't really sure what to say. You can only watch your teacher with wide-eyed bewilderment as he stalks toward you, stopping way too far into your personal bubble. 

"I don't-" you start to say but stop abruptly when you feel, with a shocked gasp, that his fingers are playfully messing with the hem of your skirt. Whoa. Hold up now. 

"Did you want to try it, Ms. Mercer?" he breathes, tugging lightly on your skirt.

Who's Ms. Mercer? 

Your brain has a sudden foggy haze floating around it, which you try to fight through. It's making your head cloudy.

"T-Try what?" you ask, shaking your head to clear it. 

Alert, alert, all hands on deck! Y/N is not in full control of herself! 

You attempt to put some distance in between the two of you but have to stop when he doesn't let go of your uniform skirt. If you go any further, you're half afraid that he'll rip it off completely. 

"The picture in the note," Luke purrs. "You want to try it out?" 

The suggestion sends visions dancing through your head of a flushed Luke holding you against him as you kiss passionately, the two of you backed up against the wall. 

You blush beet red and shake your head frantically.

"No, I d-don't think I do." 

His hands fist in your skirt, knuckles brushing the skin of your thighs. "Are you sure?" 

The suddenness of the touch brings you back to your senses. Holy cannoli, this man is slick. You have to be careful with him.

You're successful this time when you put your hands on his firm chest and push, moving him away from you. He tries to resist by snaking an arm around your waist.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he says mockingly. "Aren't you attracted yet?" 

"Of course, Mr. Patterson." You put all the sarcasm you can muster into your words. Maybe if you act like you weren't actually flustered by him 2.5 seconds ago, he won't notice it either. "Can't you see me just swooning over you?" 

Your teacher is laughing again, any trace of that sexy smirk gone. It's all devilish amusement now as he observes your red face. 

His arm removes from your waist, setting you free.

Without speaking to him or looking him in the eye, you make your way back to your desk and sit. Even though you can feel him watching you, you refuse to take the bait.

In fact, you hope that you can just bleach out that moment entirely. 

Or you could just sue for sexual harassment. 

What you really need is that book. 

His gaze eventually leaves you and you use the opportunity to look for that book that he tries to hide earlier. He has it clasped under one hand as he stares at the computer.

That has to be it. 

You need that book.

If you have some blackmail on him, then things like the event today will never happen again. You'll be able to peacefully enjoy your final year of high school without your sexy teacher out to get you. 

If it's the last thing you do, you have to get that book.

Or die trying


	8. Beautiful Brother

"Y/N? We need to talk to you! Could you come to the living room?"

Holy crap on a cracker, what time is it?

You cry silently to yourself as you look at the clock, seeing that it's only 8:30 in the morning. On the average Saturday, you sleep until 11:00. 

But apparently not today.

"Y/N!!" 

Your mother's unnaturally screechy shriek rebounds through your head again. How dare she tear you from your precious sleep? It's the only thing you live for at this point. 

Finally dragging yourself up before another scream can pierce your eardrums, you don't even look in a mirror before stumbling down the hall to the den area. 

Both of your parents are seated in their respective recliners that are positioned to face the couch, where your older brother is sitting. Because Alex's home, some random anime is playing on the television and the overgrown man-child is totally engrossed in it. 

"Y/N," your brother says as you enter. "What happened to your hair? Were you attacked by a flock of rabid pigeons while you were sleeping?"

Ignoring his comment, you smack Alex's forehead with the full of your palm as you pass him, flopping down next to him on the couch.

"What do you people want?" you groan in misery.  
It's then that you notice your parent's clothes. Your mother is clad in a brightly colored sundress with one of those giant floppy straw hats, and your father is sporting a loud Hawaiian print shirt.

What the heck?

"Are you planning on going somewhere?" you hedge with foreboding suspicion.

"Sweetheart," your mother starts in an apologetic tone. "I'm so sorry that we forgot to tell you."

"It just slipped our minds, pumpkin," your dad hums in confirmation. 

Beside you, Alex is actually paying attention to the conversation for once. You're sure he can feel the same uneasiness floating in the air that you can.

"Where are you going?" you sigh. "And for how long?"

Clasping her hands in excitement, your mother squeals and flaps her hands around like a bird, saying, "Your father and I are going on vacation to Jamaica!" 

What?

Without you?

"You're not bringing me? And you just continently forgot to tell me that you planned this?" you cry. 

Your parents sigh in a way that makes you feel like you're arguing the point of a five year old, even though you're the only logical one in this conversation. How can your parents randomly go off to another country without remembering to tell you?!

"Wait, why am I here for this?" Alex asks tensely. 

"Alex baby, we're so glad you moved back down here," your mom coos. "Such nice housemates. Such a nice, big house."

Oh. Oh no.

You and Alex look at each other with wide eyes. 

"Mum," you mumble. "That's not-"

"Oh vacation is for a month, sweetheart." Your dad cuts you off carelessly, with a stern tone. "Were not leaving you alone in this house for a month, and you can't come with us. You have to go to school." His tone suddenly morphs into a softer, more flattering pitch. "Luckily, you have a wonderful older brother who lives nearby and loves you very much. You have room, don't you Alex?"

At first, Alex's face is locked into that blank and spacey expression that's so customary for him. As the words sink in, he starts smiling. He looks at you.

He giggles.

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Plenty of room. We even have an extra bed for guests." He looks at you again and cracks up, howling with laughter. And you know why.

Luke Patterson lives in that house.

No, please no. 

You just have to tell them. Your parents don't know that Luke is your teacher, so they don't understand how totally inappropriate the situation is.

"Mum," you say desperately. "Think about this! I am a girl. Alex and his housemates make four boys! You're asking me to go live for a month with four boys, one of whom is my tea-"

Your brother slaps a hand over your mouth and silences you.

"They all love Y/N," he says. "That will work out fine, Dad."

You struggle against Alex’s hold, sending the man murderous glares as he keeps his palm over your mouth. He doesn't even budge when you lick him.

"That's so great!" your mom cheers. "Y/N, aren't you so lucky to have such a beautiful brother?"

Evil laughter is just pouring out of Alex’s mouth now. His boxy grin makes you want to punch him in the face. 

How can he do this to you? 

You've kept him alive in lieu of your parents for years. He's basically your child, and this is how he returns the favor? By trapping you in a house with your bully of a teacher for a month? 

You make it very clear to the traitor through your eyes that the second that he let's go of you, his life will end. 

"Well, now that that's settled..." Your parents stand up, grabbing their already-packed luggage from where it's hidden behind the couch. "Have a nice month! Spend lots of time together. We love you and we'll call soon!"

Just like that, in a panicked flurry of floral-printed neon, they're out the door. 

You gape at the closed front door in shocked silence, unable to speak even when Alex removes his hand.

They just left. For a whole month. 

They left you for a whole month to live with your brother, who can't even work a can opener by himself on most days, a stunning female roommate, two of his cute but male roommates, and your incredibly hot yet annoying as heck teacher. 

Alone.

For a month.

Did you mention that yet?

You turn to look at your older brother in horrified silence as he grins at you. It isn't his normal cute boxy grin; it's a dark curling of his lips that makes his eyes glow unnaturally with horrible glee.

It's the grin of the devil.

"Oh my innocent little potato," Alex laughs. "You're royally screwed now."


	9. Prank

Grunting under the weight of your bags, you trudge behind Alex to the door of his house. 

"You could help me, you know," you pant, glaring at his back. Alex hums dismissively and ignores you. The lock clicks and the door swings open, allowing the two of you entry into that dreaded house that you've been thinking about for two miserable hours since your parents left you.

It's still about 10:15am and the house is totally dead, much to your relief. There aren't any yawning men in pajamas wandering around the living room quite yet when you and Alex pass through it.

He leads you down a hall that dead-ends to the back corner of the house. There are only two doors down this hallway, one on either side, facing opposite of each other.   
Alex opens the door on the left, bringing you into a good-sized room with a large window and king-sized bed. The room is neatly made up and seems untouched by the occupants of the house. 

You point to the door on the other side of the hall. "Is that a bathroom?"

"Bathroom's in here." Alex pulls you into the room, pointing to a door on the far wall. 

You drop your bags inside as you look around curiously. Everything actually looks really comfortable. Exploring the room a bit more, you nod at the acceptably-sized closet and peek into the bathroom. 

It's large, decked out with a walk-in shower as well as a jetted bathtub. The vanity has two sinks with one huge mirror covering the distance between them in the back wall. 

"Whoa," you mutter. This is nicer than your bathroom at home.

Another closed door is on the other side of the bathroom, mirroring your doorway.

"What's in there?" you ask, moving toward the door. 

Your brother stops your forward motion with a hand on your shoulder, making a warning noise in the back of his throat.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," he tells you.

A room you're not allowed in? 

"What is this, Fifty Shades of Gray? Is that your playroom?" you snort.

Alex’s lips twitch in amusement, slowly spreading into a grin. "No," he laughs. "But we do keep some trash in there."

Trash? They have an entire room dedicated to trash? 

Speechless, you just shake your head. If that's the system of four young men, and their mess never makes it into your room, you suppose you can't complain. 

Alex sits on the bed, saying "Y/N, I need you to promise me something."

Finished with your observation for now, you turn back to your brother and give him a glare.

"I'm not promising you anything."

At this point in time, you have zero trust in your brother. He's committed the highest level of betrayal and deserves a death sentence. 

"Just listen, potato," he commands. "I don't want to have to deal with the paperwork that comes with you getting arrested for murder, so don't plan on killing Lukey while you're here. This was his house first: you're the one moving in on his territory." 

Dang it. 

How does he know what you're thinking before you can say anything? Now you'll have to be extra careful when you go about killing Luke.

"I mean it, Y/N," Alex warns. "I'll be watching you."

Snorting, you roll your eyes and slap your brother with a pillow.

"Yeah yeah, just get out. I want to shower. I feel gross."

"You are gross," Alex retorts annoyingly. 

You tug him up from the bed and shove him out the door, slamming it behind him. 

Now there's peace and quiet inside.

Smiling at the absence of your brother's deep-voiced presence, you unpack your bathroom supplies and carry them into the bathroom.   
You start a shower in the luxurious room, sighing in bliss as you step into the hot water and it washes all of your worries away.

You don't even think to lock the doors.

• • •

Luke's POV

Rolling over in his bed, Luke yawns as wide as his jaw will allow and stretches to his full length. Blearily, he pats around the nightstand for his glasses. Once he gets them placed firmly on the bridge of his nose, he glances at the clock.

10:30 on a Saturday morning. No work today, and he slept great last night too. 

Today's going to be a good day.

As long as he continues his refusal in acknowledging his dream last night. 

The dream that's only a continuation in a series of dreams over the past two weeks that have been oddly centered around one particular female and, lately, have been making him sweat. More than one morning he's woken up to find himself overheated and panting like he just ran a marathon, among other things. 

But he won't acknowledge that, not today. 

Today will be a good day. 

Luke rolls out of bed and lazily runs his fingers through his hair. A quick glance in the mirror reveals him, bare-faced and eyes heavy-lidded from sleep, with messy brown bedhead that makes it look like he just stuck his finger in a light socket. 

A shower sounds like the perfect thing to start out his great day. He trudges toward the bathroom and karate kicks open the already cracked open door, blinking in surprise when a cloud of steam rushes into the room. The hot steam fogs up his glasses and renders him momentarily blind.

Did the water go out in one of the other bathrooms? 

Why is there someone in his shower?

Creeping into the tiled room, Luke peers at the shower and tries to see past the cloudy-glassed door. He can barely make out a vague shadowed figure. 

By the silence in the bathroom, he can rule out Reggie. 

Reggie isn't ever totally silent, he has the embarrassing habit of singing in the shower.

It isn't Alex because Alex almost never showers alone. He just hops in with whoever is bathing at the moment, whether they want him there or not. 

Can’t be Julie, she works Saturdays. 

Must be Willie then.  
He sounds like a good candidate for an early-morning prank. 

Minutes later, Luke sneaks back into his bathroom with a bowlful of ice cold water. Careful to stay out of the line of view of his visitor, he drags the step-stool beside the shower and climbs to the top step. 

This will be a great present to gift on the person standing under the hot water.

The ice water slides easily from the bowl as he pours it, accompanied by a startled screech that makes Luke pause. 

"WHAT THE HECK?!"

Huh.

That sure doesn't sound like Willie. 

The water cuts off and the person fumbles around in the shower for a second before the door cracks open and a head appears.

Familiar feminine eyes, slanted and glowing with anger, gun Luke down as he stands frozen on the top step of the stool.

Y/N Mercer? 

And oh crap, she's furious, making that hot feeling flood through Luke's body as she looks at him.

"What are you doing, you freaking idiot?!" Y/N screeches at him through the curtain of her long, wet hair. 

He can't help his reaction.

The stool slips out from under him and Luke lands hard on his shoulder against the cold tile, but the rough landing can't stop his unending waves of hysterical laughter.

This is going to be a great day.


	10. You Woke Willie

"You said that you keep trash in that room!"

Alex giggles, covering his mouth with one hand as he stares at you in your bathrobe, shivering. 

Your hair is drenched with icy cold water and your entire body feels like a Popsicle.

"I said what I meant," your brother says in amusement. He sends a meaningful glance at his companion, earring a weak slap from the brown-headed idiot of a man beside him. 

There's still a grin of mirth plastered over those perfect lips, revealing something you've never noticed before. One of Luke's front teeth is slightly crooked, an endearing imperfection that somehow makes him even more attractive. 

How?

"In my defense, I didn't know it was you," your teacher says.

You glare at him. 

The way he's dressed makes your stomach flutter with how adorable he is. Eyes heavy-lidded from sleep, brown hair sticking up in random directions, and a pair of glasses settled on the bridge of his cute nose. All of that, combined with his white t-shirt and shorts, makes him look like a sleepy puppy who's just been rudely awakened from slumber.

Even though he's the one that rudely awoke you.

"If you had known, you still would've done it," you mutter bitterly. 

Alex laughs and Luke smirks. He leans close to your ear, whispering low so your brother can't hear.

"If I had known that it was you in that shower? I would've done something, Ms. Mercer, but it wouldn't have been a prank." His breath is warm as it brushes your ear, sending a quick shiver down your spine. 

You hate yourself for that. When his smug grin comes into your line of vision, your face flushes red and you grind your teeth together. 

Why does he do that?

He must know that he affects you that way. He must know how mad it makes you. The thought of him standing over there, blatantly laughing as you struggle with the emotions that he sends firing off inside of you almost makes you go ballistic. 

He isn't flirting with you. He isn't genuinely attracted to you, either. He's manipulating you for his own amusement; you're just a joke.

And he really is trash.

Now your desire for that book is skyrocketing. It isn't so much about surviving him and his class for the rest of the year anymore; you want revenge. If that book is real and holds all of his secret feelings and thoughts through the vessel of his dreams, you're taking a HD picture of that sucker and posting it on every social media account you own and can create. 

Luke Patterson is going to go down like the Titanic, and when you're standing there, laughing and watching it happen, he'll finally get a taste of what you feel. 

Alex waves a hand in front of your face and you almost bite it off. 

"Yah!" he yells at you. 

Before anyone can say another word, a door somewhere in the house slams open and footsteps stomp toward the living room.

Luke and Alex both go pale.

"Oh crap," Alex whimpers. "I think we just woke up Willie."

There's a kind of horrified terror that settles over the two of them, confusing you. Is Willie really that bad?

As if on cue, the long-headed man shoves into the room. His face is creased into a scowl so dark that your heart jumps in fright.

Another whimper spills out of Alex's mouth.

"Why in the living hell is everybody fucking yelling at 11:00 in the morning?!" 

Willie's deep voice is raspy from sleep and that, combined with his expression, makes him look and sound like he just crawled out of the deepest pit of the underworld to take all of your souls.

"Willie," Luke says hoarsely. "We're sorry. We didn't -"

"Why?" Willie growls.

"He dumped cold water on me in the shower!" you screech, pointing straight at a now terrified Luke. You kind of have the feeling that it's every man for himself with Willie around, and you want to live to see another day. "And he's being creepy. He's my teacher."

The older man's dark gaze slowly rotates to land on Luke. 

Ha.

"Willie," Luke begs. "It was an accident. I didn't know that it was-ow!"

Willie's palm smacks hard against the back of Luke's head, causing his entire body to take a few stumbling steps forward. 

The other man's entire body is basically vibrating with irritation. 

Willie points between you and Luke, glaring viciously. "New rules. There's no physical contact made between the two of you in this house, and no practical jokes either. I'm looking at you, Luke Patterson. If I get woken up by one of you idiots again, you won't live to see another day."

With that final threat, the long-haired man slinks back into the house and, you assume, goes back to sleep. 

There's a moment of silence between the three of you, the silence of someone who's just barely escaped a situation with their lives.

You never want to wake up Willie again. 

"You heard the man," Alex breathes. He emerges from where he had been cowering in the corner of the room, brushing his shirt off like nothing happened. "No touchy in this house. No jokes. It fixes the problem anyways, since Y/N's gonna be living here for a while."

"Living here?!" Luke's eyes go wide with shock. "Since when?"

"Since my parents just left for Jamaica and this is the only place she's got." Alex slings an arm over your shoulder. "The guest room is hers."

Your teacher's lips quiver, holding back what you assume is either a massive grin or laughter that makes you suspicious. 

"What is it?" you ask warily, crossing your arms over your chest in a protective gesture. Whenever he laughs like that, you feel so vulnerable. 

Luke and Alex look at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing simultaneously. Alex's almost crying as he holds his stomach.

"I love you, Lukey. You can tell her," he says, stumbling out of the room.

"Tell me what?" you choke.

Ruffling his messy hair, Luke smiles and sends you a wink through his glasses.

"You better learn to lock those doors, baby girl, because you're sharing a bathroom with me from now on."

You blink. This is what Alex thought was so funny?

Heck, it isn't funny at all.

You clench your fists to stop from punching him in his smug face and force a sweet smile onto your face.

"Well. Won't this just be an adventure."


	11. Eavesdropping

Something's off.

You've been at school for over two hours now, and you haven't gotten detention yet. You've had two full text conversations with Flynn on your phone, you've passed along a note to a girl down the aisle, and you've fake-dozed off but he hasn't called you on it. 

He's seen everything, you know he has.

Luke's made eye contact with you at least four times since class started. Every time you glance up, the teacher seems to be staring you down. 

But he won't give you detention.

Instead, every glance accompanies a knowing smile that confuses the crap out of you. 

Today of all days, you actually need to get into detention. 

For the two days that you've been moved into Alex's house, you've had a suspiciously low amount of interaction with Luke.   
He's always up and gone before you awake in the mornings, and either gets home before you or after you, disappearing instantly into his room. His avoidance of you is extremely inconvenient at the moment.

Now that you suspect that the constant scratching of his pencil has actually been him drawing in the mysterious dream book, you have to get into that special hour and a half of punishment to find it. If you just wait until he leaves the room for something, you can search his desk.  
When it's time for lunch, you think you might be able to provoke him to delve out detention.

The whole class is filing out of the room but you hang back, bringing up the caboose. Luke stands by the door and gives each student a soft smile as they exit. 

Then it's your time.

Lingering in the doorway, you send your teacher a mocking glance. "No problems today, Mr. Patterson?" you sass. "You've been suspiciously fair to me."

As if he knew something like his would happen, Luke simply leans a shoulder on the doorway in a casually gorgeous pose and smirks at you. "What is this? Are you begging for my attention, Ms. Mercer?" His brown hair tilts against the doorway and he bites his bottom lip, shaking his head as he tsks. 

You don't understand. Why isn't he taking this opportunity to give you detention?! 

"No way on earth," you pop out. "Just wondering why you suddenly dropped the bad attitude towards me."

With a short laugh, Luke leans in and smiles. "Shouldn't you be appreciative?"

You take a step back from his closer proximity. "I know you saw me texting. Are you losing your courage, Mr. Patterson?"

He's moving again, now just close enough to make you uncomfortable but not close enough to make you move away. 

"I just figured," he breathes, "that I'll have plenty of time to punish you at home, Y/N. I can do worse things than hold you back for detention there."

Wait a second, what?

Oh heck. 

You gulp, trying not to gape at the silkiness in his voice as he says the words. He makes them sound so, so...sensual. Too soft and smooth for you. You grit your teeth to hide the warmth flowing through your body and give your teacher a superior look.

"You can't touch me at home," you taunt. "House rules, unless you want Willie to kill you."

All of the sudden, he pulls you back so the two of you aren't standing in the open doorway, instead tucked around the corner and out of sight of any passerbyers. His fingers grab your chin and tilt your head up.

"I don't have to touch you, Y/N," he rumbles with a dark smile. His eyes have that smoky touch to them that makes you wary. "I know how to get in your head. I know how to push your buttons. You make it so easy." He laughs. "I don't have to touch you to mess with you. But..."

You're frozen, glaring at him with your teeth bared. When he trails off, you yank your chin out of his grasp and back away. 

That cute vampire tooth makes an appearance with his grin. "Now that you mention it, I can't touch you at home, can I? It might be better to have you in detention."

Luke winks slyly and walks out of the classroom, leaving you a jumbled mix of emotions standing still in the empty classroom. 

You got what you wanted, right? He finally gave you detention, but it's the reason that's bothering you so bad.

Now that you mention it, I can't touch you at home, can I? 

What is that supposed to mean?

• • • 

At lunch, you plop into the seat beside you best friend, Flynn, and let out a gigantic huff. The other girl pauses in the middle of chewing her rice and looks at you with a raised brow.

"What is it this time?" she asks around a mouthful.

Speechless, you just slam your forehead down on the table and grip your hair in your fists. You want to explode.

"Take me out of this misery," you mumble to her. Your voice is muffled by the wood.

A sliding sound on the table makes you look up. Flynn's pushing a bottle of your favorite juice along with a single finger, pushing it so it bumps you in the nose.

"Drink this," she says. "Feel better. Mr. Patterson isn't worth it."

"Thanks," you grumble. The juice is refreshing, but it doesn't dim the chaos of your feelings flirting around inside of you. 

I can't touch you at home.

Can I?

But what does that mean?

"Whatever you're stressing over, don't," Flynn sighs. "He's just messing with you on purpose. Right? He knows what makes you mad, and he knows what confuses you. He knows-"

"I know what he knows." You rub your face wearily. "I'm just frustrated. I try to hide my texting and pictures and he gives me detention. I do it in plain sight and he doesn't even acknowledge it. I'm getting whiplash!" 

"I know." Flynn sighs, rubbing your back comfortingly. "I know."

• • • 

Narrator POV

What the girls don't know is that someone can hear their conversation from a nearby table. The eavesdropper smiles with mirth when she overhears Y/N's words. 

"So that's how she did it," the stranger mumbles. "She got Mr. Patterson all alone in detention." 

Knowing that, the unknown person's plan becomes clearer than before. 

All they have to do is corner Mr. Patterson in detention, they'll succeed.

• • • 

Y/N's POV

You've only been back from lunch for fifteen minutes when Flynn texts you. You pull out your phone to answer it, and a masculine hand slams down on your desk.

Smiling, Luke subtly runs his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Ms. Mercer? I think you've just earned yourself a detention."


	12. Pros and Cons

Luke’s POV

When the bell rings to signal the end of class, the eager Luke can't decide where to start. 

He's watched the confusion and suspicion roll in Y/N's eyes all day which, although it's entertaining enough, is nowhere near as funny as watching her boil in rage.

He has a couple of options.

Anything time that he touches her, Y/N goes red as a cute little cherry and produces a flaming glare for him. Should he start by sitting next to her?

She's seated in her desk at the back of the classroom, scribbling on some irrelevant piece of homework. If he takes the empty desk beside her in the guise of helping her, he'll have full access.   
He can shift their chairs closer as he points out a problem, watch as she grows uncomfortable and irritated with his presence. 

Luke sits back in his chair, folding his arms smugly behind his head as he considers the possibilities. 

His arm around her shoulder, a hand on her knee, the subtle brush of his lips on the delicate shell of her ear. Maybe he can play a little more with the hem of that uniform skirt. 

Anything to make that flush rise on her cheeks. Anything to make that glimmer appear in her feminine eyes.

He can't wait.

Taking off his glasses and running his fingers through his hair to tousle it a bit, Luke rolls his shoulders and stands. He moves toward the oblivious girl in the back, loosening his tie as he does so. The marks on the paper come into focus as he gets closer: some type of math problem. 

"Need some help?" he asks. 

Y/N glances up in surprise, her mouth turned into an automatic frown at the sound of his voice. He works hard to hold his smile back. 

"No, thank you," she says with a glare. "I'm fine."

He sits down anyways and leans over her shoulder to glance at the symbols. She glares at him out of the corner of her eye and grips her pencil tighter. 

He points at one of the problems. "But you got that one wrong."

"What?" Eyes widening and narrowing in quick procession, Y/N peers down at the problem and gives him the opportunity to slide his arm along the back of her chair. 

"How is that wrong?" she huffs. The girl is completely oblivious to Luke's amusement. "If you move the x here and the y here, then apply the formula-"

"A is squared, Ms. Mercer." Leaning in close, Luke moves his finger along the paper. "And then x and y move like this, here. They're opposites but they belong together, see? Like puzzle pieces. Like...fate." The last part he finishes in a sultry whisper against her ear as he applies one of his strategies. He deliberately slides his bottom lip against her earlobe and blows a slight breath there.

With how close he is, he can hear Y/N's teeth grinding against each other. 

"Stop it," she hisses. 

Laughing under his breath, he bites his lip when she leans back in her seat and realizes that his arm is there.

"Stop what, baby girl?" he teases as he slides a hand onto her kneecap, fingers flirting with the hem of that skirt that makes him hot as heck. Y/N stiffens.

"I swear, Luke Patterson," she seethes. "If you don't get your hands off of me in two seconds, I'm going to-"

"Mr. Patterson, please report to the front office."

The overhead speaker beeps loudly as the speaker hangs up, cutting Y/N off from whatever delightful threat she had been making. Luke sighs and stands, disappointed. 

The element of surprise is gone now. 

"I'll be back in a little bit," Luke laughs, hiding his disappointment. "Don't miss me too much." He hears the sound of her scoffing as he walks out the classroom door.

• • • 

Y/N's POV

This is it. This is the opportunity you've been waiting for all day. 

As your teacher's white-clothed back disappears down the hallway, you move swiftly from your seat. Whatever they're calling him in there for, you can't be sure how long it will take. 

You have to find that book and be back at your desk before he returns.

You're unbelievably relieved that the intercom broke in when it did, because you were, in that moment, torn between kissing him and punching him in the face. The heat of his touch managed to send two different types of flushes throughout your body, but there's only one of them that you want to acknowledge.   
The only one that matters is the anger; there isn't any sincerity from his part within the attraction. You have to remember that.

Scampering across the classroom, you immediately run your hands across the surface of his desk as your eyes scan for that brown leather cover. It isn't on the top, so you waste no time hesitating.   
The first drawer creaks slightly as you yank it open and start ruffling through the contents. Papers and notebooks are shoved to the side by your searching hands as you go through each of the desk drawers, baffled by the absence of a leather-bound sketchbook. 

What the heck? 

You just saw him with it the other day, where did it go? Maybe you just missed it or something. Determined that it's in here somewhere, you start a secondary search through his possessions. You've just finished tearing apart the last drawer again when you hear footsteps on the hallway, drawing closer. 

Cringing, you try to straighten everything up as much as possible before sliding back into your seat mere seconds before Luke's dress shoes step inside. You do your best innocent impression as you observe him, trying to look surprised and curious at his return.

You don't have to fake those emotions for very long.

Behind Luke, two people trod into the classroom and look around. A boy and a girl, one you recognize and the other a stranger.

Carrie Wilson sends you a catlike grin from the door.

You groan in misery. What is she doing here? Can't you have detention in peace?

The other student is an unfamiliar boy with soft brown hair and a quiet demeanor. He looks at you solemnly, greeting with a slight nod of his angular chin. 

Luke looks stressed now. 

He motions the two of them into desks in the front and glances at your with tired, exasperated eyes. 

"Ms. Mercer," he says. "There was some overflow from the main detention room. Looks like you'll have company from now on."

What?

You give Carrie a distasteful look, scrunching up your nose. You really don't want to be a witness to her trying to get in Luke's pants for the next hour and a half. Her seductive-ness is just plain nasty to you. 

And how are you supposed to raid Luke's desk when there are witnesses in the room?! 

At the same time, you're a lot safer from said teacher with other people in the room. You suppose that you have to lose something to gain something. 

As Carrie watches Mr. Patterson hungrily, Luke gazes at you with nostalgic disappointment, and the new kid sends you quietly curious glances, you just hope that the pros of this situation outweigh the cons.


	13. Knees

"Mr. Patterson? I don't understand this. Could you help me?"

Opening your lips, your mouth in perfect synchronization, "yes, Ms. Wilson," just as the words, heavy with exasperation, leave Luke's mouth. It's the same exchange of phrases that's been happening for the entire period of detention.

Carrie smiles and watches your teacher's lean figure with hungry eyes as he walks toward her.  
Your eyes and ears are about to start bleeding. Luckily, there are only about ten minutes left in detention; you aren't sure that you would survive any more of her. 

You, Luke, and the silent brown-headed boy have been eyeing the clock desperately for a good hour, waiting to be released from the torture that is Carrie Wilson. 

As you watch, the clock slowly counts down the minutes to the background music of Luke attempting to help Carrie with her homework. The struggle of her blatantly irrelevant comments about the condition of his physique seem to wear Luke down, sending him running back to his desk to avoid her as soon as possible.

You sweat the last two minutes because they seem to go on forever. 

It's like time is working against you with all of its strength, making you suffer for unknown reasons. And time isn't the only thing out to get you. There's also karma, gravity, fate, and a brunette named Luke Patterson. All of those factors combine to make pure misery for you. You still can't believe that his stupid dang book isn't anywhere in his desk. 

You're back to square one now with your revenge plan.

When there's only one minute left on the clock and you've started to eagerly put away your school supplies, Luke strolls by you with an arm full of textbooks, carrying them to the shelf in the back.  
As he passes you notice him take a quick glance at you. His hip subtly swings a bit to the side and his sturdy thigh brushes your desk, sending your pencil case and all of its contents flying in different directions across the tiled classroom floor. After the chaotic sound of plastic and wood bouncing off of the ground echoes into silence, you're left gaping at the huge mess before you. 

What.  
The.   
Actual.  
Fuck.

"Oops," the brunette man pops out lightly, smirking sexily at you while his back is to the other two. You give him an incredulous stare. 

Carrie and the quiet boy are both turned around in their desks to look at the mess, showcasing completely different reactions. Carrie' giggling like an airhead, while the quiet boy at least has enough decency to look sympathetic. But then the bell for dismissal rings, and he shoots out the door towards freedom.

Huh. Obviously not enough sympathy to help. 

When Carrie lingers and sends flirty glances at Luke, the man sighs heavily. He loads the textbooks onto the shelf and faces the clingy girl.

"Ms. Wilson, you can go first. I guess I'll help Ms. Mercer clean up her mess." He sighs again as if a heavy burden's been placed on his sleek shoulders. 

Clenching your fists, you give him a death stare. 

You're the one that caused this, you freaking sleazeball.   
Carrie starts, "I can help t-" but is quickly silenced by Luke holding up a shushing finger. 

"That's not necessary," he grits out. You can practically see him struggling with his patience. Carrie finally gets the message and slinks out the door, sending pitiful looks over her shoulder as she does. 

You snort. 

Ignoring Luke, you go to the furthest pencil from him and start picking up your possessions, staying as far away from your dangerous teacher as possible. He doesn't bother you. 

Unusual.

The two of you pick up your pencils in silence until you notice the edge of one sticking out from underneath a bookshelf. And, lucky you, as you bend down to get it your fingertips brush the cylindrical object and send it rolling further under the shelf.

Why does this always happen to you?

Glancing over your shoulder to make sure that Luke is occupied elsewhere, you drop to your knees and reach as far as you can under the bookshelf. The pencil is there; you can feel it hovering on the edge of your touch, trapped between the wall and your fingers. But at the same time, it's just far enough away that you can't quite get a grasp on it. You extend your arm as far as it can go, just barely able to grasp the edge of the pencil's eraser. 

Ah ha!

Successfully, you draw back with the troublesome object clenched in your fist, a victorious smile on your face. 

Until you turn around.

Rotating on your knees, you spin around only to come face-to-crotch with the one and only Luke Patterson.

Oh crap.

He's half-sitting in the desk in front of you, watching with amusement as you turn what you're sure is a very unattractive shade of embarrassment at his fly being inches from your face. With the bookshelf behind you and him in front, you've only got the option to try to scoot to safety to the side. 

Your skirt makes a weird squeaky noise on the polished tile as you slide to the right. You're totally desperate to get away from this situation and especially desperate to exit the awkward position you're in. 

Bam!

A startled squeal leaves your mouth when your path to safety is blocked by Luke's shoe slamming into the tile. A hesitant glance reveals him grinning fully now, all of his weight leaned back onto that desk while his legs are spread on either side of you.

Trapping you in.

The visual of him sprawled out on a desk, still dressed in his slacks and dress shirt with a tie, looking down on you with a self-confident grin that also holds a hint of sensual amusement, is almost sinful.

"Why Y/N," he says smoothly. "I didn't think you'd get down on your knees for me this fast."

Oh, it's Y/N now. School's over and you're suddenly Y/N again.

"That's because I wouldn't," you snap back, flustered beyond belief. If you glare at him enough, maybe he'll become less attractive. Somehow.

"And yet, here we are," Luke continues on while shaking his head. "I'm up here, and you're...down there." 

"By accident," you stress. "Now if you'd just let me up..."

You trail off and stare at him expectantly but he just sits there, as if waiting for something. You poke his foot to prompt him into movement. Instead of releasing you, Luke leans forward so his elbows are propped up on his knees and his face is level with yours. 

"What's the magic word, babe?" he whispers teasingly. The glasses on his face gleam under the fluorescent lights as he turns his face toward the ceiling in an exaggerated display of waiting. 

Seething, you clench your fists and your jaw and grit out the reluctant word, "please." 

To your major relief, he seems satisfied with your surrender and retracts his limbs so you're free to stand up. You try to keep cool as you stand and smooth out the ruffles in your skirt, but you don't think he buys it.

Luke, still grinning, stands up and slips his hands into his pants pocket. His head tilts to the side as he observes your cherry red form.

"I did that for a reason," he tells you. "Spilling your pencils everywhere."

Well, obviously. So you could continue to sexually harass me! 

Looking at him with a blatantly irritated expression, you stay silent and wait for why you're sure will be an extremely illogical explanation.

Luke laughs.

His eyes sparkle with mischievousness and his cute uneven tooth flashes with his smile. The sight melts your heart a little.

"I wanted to hold you back so you wouldn't leave. We're going to the same place now, Y/N," he says sweetly. "Let me give you a ride home."

Why you bipolar piece of-

"Are you serious? On what planet would that be a good idea?" you cough. "Somebody could completely take that the wrong way!"

He smirks wickedly. "What wrong way?" When you scoff, he chuckles and slings an arm around your shoulder, dumping his handful of pencils into your bag and steering you towards the door. "Come on, no one will see," he chides gently. He does, however, release you so the two of you walk side by side when you enter the hallway. 

Looking doubtfully at him, you glance outside and notice with a grimace that it's overcast, rain threatening to pour down any minute. You really don't want to get soaked to the bone, and it's a much longer walk to Alex's house than it was to yours.

With a reluctant sigh, you mumble, "Fine. But just this once."

Luke grins victoriously, leading you to the parking lot with a skip in his step. "Excellent."


	14. Scared

It's one of the rare nights at Alex's house where all of the boys are home at the same time. It's isn't late, only 5:30 in the evening, but it feels like midnight. 

All of you are gathered into the living room with a horror movie playing on the television, but you're the only one watching it with any horror. 

Reggie and Willie are slumped over in a state of exhaustion on the couch, your brother squished in between them and yawning. Julie is sitting on the floor with textbooks and papers spread around her, nodding off as the stress of being a college senior overcomes her. 

You're next to Julie on the floor, watching warily as your teacher, who's sprawled on the floor in front of the tv, slowly falls asleep. 

Are you terrified of the movie playing? 

Heck yes you are, but you have to wait for Luke to fall asleep before you 'go to your room'. Otherwise known as searching through Luke's room across the hall while he's sleeping safely in the living room.  
If that book isn't on his desk, it means that he takes it home with him. Maybe you can find it somewhere in his room.

After you searched the detention room for his dream book and received an awkward ride home from the man who, you discovered, is way too obsessed with a pop group called Sunset Curve, you formulated this plan in your mind. 

Play a movie after a hard day of work, get all of the men sleepy, and get the job done.  
So far, it's worked out pretty well.   
They're all almost asleep, you just have to stand this terrifying movie for a couple more minutes.   
As something on the screen splatters a girl's insides across some sort of impaling device, you turn your head and try not to tremble in fear. There's no way on earth you'll be able to sleep tonight.

Why couldn't Julie have chosen a rom com or an action movie?  
The monster jumps out from behind something suddenly, scaring the living daylights out of you and causing a tiny, almost inaudible scream to leave your mouth.

Thank goodness Julie sleeps like the dead, or you might have woken her up. 

"Y/N?" a concerned voice whispers.

You glance up, almost groaning when you see that while your whimper of fear didn't wake up the rock-like female, it did manage to knock Luke out of his sleepy stupor. He must not be a very heavy sleeper.

You're about to answer him and reassure him that you're fine when the monster in the movie begins ripping violently into one of the lead characters, splattering blood, gore, and body parts everywhere.

Then you're on the floor, curled into a ball of terror. This is the worst idea you've ever had, Y/N Mercer.  
Gentle hands on your shoulders lift you into a sitting position, sliding up your neck to cup your face and force your eyes to focus.  
Luke crouches beside you, brows furrowed in worry. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered quietly in an attempt to avoid waking the others.

You try to open your mouth and force words out, but they won't come. Instead, you shake your head.

He sighs.

"Come on, you wimp," he chuckles, lifting you up with a hand under each arm. You go with it, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders as he leads you back into the dark house toward your bedrooms. Every creak of the floor makes you tuck further under his arm.

"It's just a movie, Y/N," Luke laughs. "It isn't real. Why are you so scared?"

"It's not funny," you hiss, gripping his sleep shirt in a fist. The two of you finally make it safely into your room, where you turn on every light switch possible and dive into your bed, sitting huddled in the blankets with your back to the wall.

Luke takes one look at you and bursts out in laughter, which you ignore bitterly.  
Your whole plan is ruined. Everything you endured watching that movie, waiting for hours for all of them to fall asleep, it's all for nothing.

Maybe fate is working against you finding that book.

You can still hear the terrifying sounds of people screaming in the living room, each shriek sending you deeper and deeper under the false safety of your blankets.

Sighing, Luke crosses his arms and leans a hip against the doorway.   
"Are you going to be okay?" he asks. "Do I need to go get Alex?" 

Be strong, Y/N.

"No," you mumble. "I'll be fine." You can't stand the look in his face right now, knowing that he's standing there mocking you. You can't afford to show him any more weakness than you already have. 

"Okay. Goodnight, Y/N." with that, he leaves you alone in your room, walking out and closing the door behind him. The door to his bedroom across the hall creaks faintly when he closes it.

Crap.  
The second that you're alone, an overwhelming sense of fright starts growing in your chest. The lights are all on but that doesn't stop you from watching for a monster to start crawling out from under your bed.

You can't stay here alone.

You try to think about your options around the house. Your brother's bedroom is across the house, along with Julie’s and Willie’s. The living room, where they're all still asleep, is down a dark and terrifying hall where you're vulnerable to attack. The thought of scrambling down that passage in the darkness makes you quake. 

Luke.

He's just on the other side of the hall, and you know that he's in that room and not with the others in the living room. You can even go through your connected bathrooms so you don't have to brave the hunting ground of monsters that is your hallway.

It's the only stupid, desperate plan you can think of, driven by illogical fear that you can't help.  
As much as you hate being in the presence of Luke Patterson, he's the closest thing to safety you have.

So you go for it.

You lunge out of your bed and leap across the room, scramble through the two bathroom doors separating your room from Luke's, and rush into the man's room. 

It's dark. The lights have been turned off already, and there's a softly breathing lump beneath the covers of his bed.

You catapult on top of him. 

"What the heck?" Luke shoots up in bed when your weight lands on top of him, scrambling for the lamp beside his bed. As he turns it on, the sleepy, confused, and terrified brunette also shoves his glasses onto his face.

When everything comes into focus, it's you cowering on Luke's chest, clutching his shirt with wide eyes. 

"I-I'm sorry," you whimper. "But I'm scared." With that, you burrow under the blankets of his bed, turning your back on him and his warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all are enjoying this fic :)))


	15. Storm and Victory

Luke's POV

He's been awake for hours now.

The steady heat of Y/N against him is keeping Luke's body and mind too distracted to go to sleep. The girl is still in his bed, after having refused to leave last night due to absolute and total terror from watching that stupid movie. She wouldn't let him leave, either, to go sleep in the living room or with one of his roommates.

On a normal day Luke would've teased her for being such a baby, but he could see the genuine fear in her eyes.

It did something to him, something to his heart. It made him go all soft.

So Luke held back the snarky comment lurking on the tip of his tongue and allowed her to roll up in his blankets like a tiny little burrito, doing his best to ignore her soft skin and feminine smell sinking into his blankets. 

Sometime during the night, she shifted to hug his side tightly so the entire length of her body was pressed along his arm, ribs and hip and her head rested on his chest. 

Then she stayed there.

All. Night.

That leaves him here and now, trapped beneath her embrace in the early morning light, his emotions a tumulus mix of contentment and uncomfortableness. Content because laying here with her arms around him feels so right.

Uncomfortable because he knows that no matter how right it feels, it's so, so wrong.  
This attraction that he feels to her in the dark of night, where she has no interference...it's starting to bother him. It's a different kind of attraction then what he does in the day, when he forces a physical connection to her so he can see her reaction. She doesn't give him a reaction as incentive to want her, not in the nighttime. 

In the day, it's all a joke to get a rise out of her.  
At night, it's real, tried and true desire that haunts him.

Her hair is splayed out on his pillow in a way that makes a tight, soft ball of red hot settle low in his stomach. About two hours ago her smell started to affect him, really affect him. He's tried to keep his hips angled away from her since then but as time passes, she moves more and more and her body begins to overlap him. Her leg is slowly working its way to lay over his thigh and her little hand is continuously migrating across his chest.

If she doesn't wake up soon, things might take a turn for the worse.

He doesn't want to know where she'll hit him if she wakes up to find that pressed against her.  
Wincing at the thought, Luke sighs and attempts to slide the clingy girl off of him. She shifts at the movement and murmurs cutely in her sleep, her hand leaving his chest to slide under the pillow. Her pretty eyes flutter open and meet his, sleepy and glazed over.

"Luke?" she asks in a husky voice, low and raspy from slumber. Her leg unconsciously slips further to hook across his front, so she's half-straddling the side of his hip. Luke groans. 

She's hot, and the feeling of her is getting him all kinds of turned on.  
After a moment of awkward stillness, Y/N finally wakes up enough to realize what position she's in. Those sleepy eyes that had been so deliciously heavy lidded now widen in shock. She goes stiff, sliding both hands under the pillows as she pushes herself up and draws her limbs back to herself. 

"Shit!" she squeaks in a voice that makes Luke want to kiss her.

She's just so cute.

Before Luke can say anything to calm her down, his bedroom door flies open and Alex bounces in cheerfully.

Both Luke and Y/N freeze.

"Lukey, have you seen my-"

His boxy grin fades as he takes in what Luke's sure is a bad-looking scene, with Y/N propped up on the bed and leaning slightly over Luke, her long hair flowing down to make a slight curtain. They're extremely close, still lightly pressed along each other, and they're still clad in their pajamas. 

That fact that both of their expressions portray blatant guilt doesn't help.

Before every storm, there's a second of still calmness, uncannily similar to the silence in Luke's bedroom as they all state each other down. 

Luke can feel the storm coming.

In the next couple of seconds, all heck breaks loose.  
"LUKE PATTERSON! WHY IS MY LITTLE SISTER IN YOUR BED?"  
Alex lunges at the other man with a vengeance, landing on top of him with a thump and a pillow in his grasp. He begins to violently beat Luke with that pillow, sending feathers flying everywhere as the pillow can't stand under Alex's fury. 

"THERE ARE RULES IN THIS HOUSE! NO TOUCHY! YOU CANT TOUCH EACH OTHER HERE!”

Luke curls up into fetal position, unable to explain himself due to the amount of feathers stuffed in his mouth as Alex tries to murder him with his own pillow.  
He tries to look for help from the girl who caused all of this mess, but when he looks for her she's already fled the room.

That traitor.

He'll have to punish her for that. But later, when there isn't a psychotic Alex Mercer suffocating him in his own bedsheets. 

Luke's so busy protecting himself from his best friend that he doesn't even notice that the girl who abandoned him took something else of his along with her.

A particular brown-covered book.

• • • 

Y/N's POV

You can't believe it. 

Quickly closing the door of your bedroom behind you and ignoring the noises coming from Luke's bedroom as Alex beats the crap out of him with a pillow, you stare down at what you've managed to snatch in the chaos of your brother's attack.

You found it.

Completely by chance, simply with luck as you awoke to find yourself wrapped around your teacher, your face inches from his with his eyes staring directly into yours with a weird, strained expression. Your breaths were mixing together with his, your hand on his well-built chest, and your leg. Holy crap you were wrapped around him so tightly that you were basically encircling his hips. So you pushed yourself away from him and tried to remove your clingy limbs.

That's when you felt it.

A smooth, flat object, tucked safely between the wall and the mattress.

Hidden there.

Your fingers just brushed it as you levered yourself up. 

It felt like a book. 

And what book would the great Luke Patterson be trying to hide like that?

When Alex had burst in and attacked, you took the opportunity and ran with it. 

As you look at the book with the worn brown leather cover, you can feel it rising up like a flood in your chest.

You've finally achieved what you've been working toward. You have the blackmail material you've been searching for.

You found it. 

Victory.


	16. The Love From a Brother

Flipping through Luke's dream book is like watching a PowerPoint presentation on his entire life. 

The book is pretty thick and worn down, showing signs that he's had it for a long, long time. Inside, the drawings themselves aren't drawn on separate pages for separate nights; instead it's one big collage of pictures, memories, and imaginations, the earliest of which you think are from when Luke was just a little boy. 

A hint is the first section of drawings in the journal. 

Although there's an obviously huge amount of potential in the crude drawings, they're the dreams of a young boy. Epic battles with monsters and dragons, fantasy worlds and superheroes. 

There's always a hero, but it isn't Luke.

You can catch a tiny glimpse of a little baby Luke running around, so cute and kind.  
The dreams grow progressively less innocent as the pages turn, the young and cute Luke growing into a young and hungry Luke with every flip of the page. 

These dreams are filled with friends, failed math tests and girls.  
Girls everywhere. 

If there's anywhere that you could use as blackmail, you figure it will probably be this part.

He starts out with cute little images of girls with the wind blowing their long hair and tiny hearts drawn all over the place, but they don't stay like that for long. The women in Luke's dreams grow more lascivious as his drawings grow more and more intricate. 

You blush at some of the images drawn by a teenage Luke as you basically watch him go through puberty and stay a lusty teenager for pages upon pages. The girls are all over the place, but they're all faceless, which you find odd.

No matter how much clothing their bodies are or are not clad in, their faces remain shadowed, hidden by their hair, or simply not drawn at all. 

It's almost creepy. 

You also notice that Luke hasn't drawn himself in anything. All of the scenarios seem to be drawn like you're looking through his eyes, and his own slender form never makes an appearance.

Although the lust does fade a little in Luke's dreams as he moves on into college, there's still the occasional scantily clad female here and there. 

But now you can recognize some of the faces. 

A drawing of a familiar gorgeous profile, viewed from the side to showcase a beautifully aristocratic nose and a smile brighter than sunshine. The wind is blowing the man's hair back as he laughs, captured in amazing detail with pencil.

"Reggie," you whisper to yourself with a soft smile.

As you scroll through the worries and dreams of a college-aged Luke, you find another familiar drawing.  
It's Willie, kind and cool and masculine as he smiles down at the viewer. Through the drawing, you can see how much Luke must look up to and respect him.   
In fact, with every drawing you find of the housemates, you realize something more and more clearly. 

These men aren't just Alex's housemates, or just Luke's friends. They're family.

Family, whose love and respect for each other must at least equal if not outweigh the love you have for your own family.   
Julie's drawn mid-laugh, surrounded by an obvious silly and sweet aura that glows like a golden light around her, beautifully perfect face thrown back to the sun with a massive smile.

Alex's drawing is so bright that it makes your heart hurt, your brother's teeth bared in the perfect likeness of your favorite rectangle smile that matches his eccentric and beautiful personality. The care that Luke's taken to perfectly sketch every freckle and mark on Alex's face does something to you.

Something wet drops onto the page you're staring down at, and you blink in shock when you realize that you're crying. Shaking your head, you push the book away and rub your eyes to expel the salty water. 

It's intense, Luke's raw love for his brothers exposed here, in his dreams. It's so genuine and powerful. If all of them feel the same way Luke does about each other, then these roommates will be family for life.

You take deep breaths and calm yourself down before picking the book back up. Flipping through your teacher's dream book, you continue to watch his life pass before your eyes.

You start noticing something, something different than what he's drawn before. On one page, there's a pair of lips. They're drawn in amazing detail, full and shining with the slight point of a chin sketched beneath them before they fade into a pile of papers that need grading.

There's a pair of eyes a couple of pages later, pretty and thickly lashed but it's...familiar. You can't put a finger on it, but you feel like you know the person that it belongs to. There are other similar sketches, the curve of a feminine neck, a delicate wrist holding…

A cell phone.

Wait.

With a hedging suspicion lurking in the back of your brain, you hesitantly flip to the next page.  
And all of the breath leaves your body, as if you've been punched in the gut.

It's you.

Your face fills the entire page, the first drawing that's done that in the entire.

Is this how he sees you?

Your brow is furrowed, lips that he's obviously drawn with so much care turned down at the corners, and your eyes are narrowed and sparkling with brilliant anger. Although your hair is pulled back from your face, a single lock has fallen down to brush your delicately sketched jaw. 

A bright flush is present on your cheeks.

Holy crap.

The individual drawings from before, the lips and the neck and the eyes...no wonder they were familiar. 

You look at them in the mirror every day. With shaking fingers, you turn the page again to find more drawings of you, of your face and your body. 

Some are mementos from real situations, like the picture of you on your tiptoes and reaching for something above your head with the boy's kitchen, a rough sketch in the background, or the drawing of you sitting at your desk with a book in front of you, lost in it. 

Then there are some that most definitely have not happened.

There's a part of the page covered with an image that portrays a girl with long, flowing hair and a school uniform straddling a figure who sits in an office chair, the two figures connected by the mouth in a passionate kiss. It's detailed and sexy, so much so that you can see the couple's tongues intertwined between their parted lips.

You shiver with a strange heat.

You're assuming the girl is you, and the man...  
His hair is a messy brunette mop. 

"He drew himself," you say quietly, surprised. 

He hasn't done that before. 

Exploring a little more, you feel your face heat at some of the images of yourself that he's carved into the paper. 

From the two of you embraced in a cute, gentle peck to a sketch of you in your school uniform, looking over your shoulder with a seductive little smile as you raise the hem of the skirt to show a flash of the lace underwear you had worn that day, Luke's drawn an incredible amount of you in this book. 

Does he dream about you this much?

And a whole heck of a lot of them involve you in various stages of undress with Luke's full lips and hands on some part of your pencil-drawn body, or a close up of your parted lips on his graphite skin.  
By the time you get to the end of the drawings, your entire body is on fire and a ball of heat is hovering in your lower stomach. 

You didn't know.

You didn't know that he actually feels this way about you. Not only does he obviously want you in a sexual way, but you think he might have some kind of...feelings for you.

Not all of those pictures were the two of you making out. 

Some were just soft traces of your smile or the curve of your face, tender and light. That confuses the heck out of you.

Well, either way, looking through his dream book has determined something definite. You can't use this for revenge.   
It's way too personal, too full of emotions and vulnerability. 

To post anything from this, even the most lusty drawing from Luke's teenage years, feels like an unacceptable betrayal of his trust and feelings.

Luke's kept this book a secret for a reason.

You think you should keep it that way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooo getting steamy


	17. Thief

You're sitting in the kitchen with your brother, eating a cup of ramen when Luke strolls into the room.

The second that you notice his presence, you freeze.

"Lukey!" Alex says cheerfully, but you don't say a word and keep a subtle eye on his expression. He's neutral-faced, sending your brother a quick smile before heading towards the refrigerator. His shoulders are relaxed beneath the dress shirt and he seems totally unconcerned with the world.

However cool he seems, you still can't relax.

Because you're just waiting for him to realize that you have his book.  
It's been three days since you stole it, and you can't believe that he hasn't snuck into your room at night, taken it back, and murdered you in your sleep.

Three days.  
How has he not noticed?

You've sat through detention with Carrie and the still-nameless boy for the last three days, waiting in terror for your teacher to corner you alone or confront you about having his secret book, but he hasn't. 

He just gives you these looks that are a mixture of irritation, amusement, and impatience. What is that supposed to mean?

It's not that you haven't tried to return it, because you have. But every single time that you slide that book under your shirt and begin to sneak across the hallway to Luke's room, the brunette appears out of thin air and gives you a smile or a quiet, "Hi, Y/N."

And every time, you scramble back into your room like a coward instead of fessing up to him.  
It's making you incredibly nervous, that every time you try to return it, he's right there.

It's like he knows.

As Luke moves around the kitchen behind you, he traces his fingertips along the edge of the table. 

"Alex, have you heard the news?" your teacher asks, his tone light and dismissive.

"No," Alex answers with a frown. "What happened?"

"I heard a rumor going around the neighborhood. About a thief."

You almost choke on the mouthful of noodles you just devoured. 

Crap.

"Really? Someone's been robbing people?" Alex says, concerned and oblivious.

A catlike grin spreads across Luke's face for a split second before he reigns it into a disappointed, disgusted expression.

"It's so sad, isn't it? That somebody would feel okay after taking valuable possessions that don't belong to them." Out of the corner of your eye, you can feel him looking at you with his piercing gaze.

You shrink so far into yourself that you feel like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell. 

He knows. 

He so, totally, completely, 100% knows, but why is he doing this?

He's not confronting you or taking it back.

He's just watching you. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Luke says. "You seem a little...flustered."

Flustered? You would call that an understatement at this point, for more than one reason.   
Yes, you're beet red and blushing under his stare because you know that he knows that you're guilty, but also...he's different.

After looking through his book, your thoughts about the brunette teacher have changed immensely. He isn't the petty, childish, unconcerned player that you thought he was.

Now, as you look at him, you can basically feel the loyalty and love radiating off of him when you never saw it before. The fact that he's capable of such strong emotions for his brothers almost...  
It makes you want to see.

See what it's like to be loved by Luke Patterson. 

To be included in that small circle of people that he devotes all of that powerful emotion and care to. To know that there's someone in your life who loves you so extremely that they probably wouldn't second guess sacrificing their life for yours.

You want to feel his love. 

But before you can think about or acknowledge the unrealistic desire inside of you, you have to get this stupid book back into his room without being cornered by him.

"You're not going to eat?" Alex asks Luke, who's standing stock still in the kitchen and staring you down indicatively. When you refuse to make eye contact or acknowledge him in any way, the brunette sighs.

"I'm not really hungry," he says. He rubs his throat and coughs. "I think I'll take a shower instead. Goodnight Alex."

Your brother waves at him as he walks to the door, pausing just inside the doorway for a moment. 

"Goodnight, Y/N," he says silkily to you over one shoulder.

Eek.

"Night," you squeak quietly. 

With a soft chuckle and another cough, he leaves you and your brother in the kitchen alone.

"He was acting kind of weird," Alex comments. "What was that about? A thief?"

With a weary glance at your brother, you sigh, "Alex, I'm the thief." 

"You're the..." He's thinking hard, and then it hits him. "The book. You found it?" His voice is excited, but you shake your head.

"I found it, and I won't use it," you tell him. "I'm really just trying to figure out a way to get it back into his room."

For a good minute, Alex simply sits and stares at you with an expression that you find more than slightly insulting.

It looks like he's questioning your intelligence.   
"Didn't Luke just say he's going to take a shower?" He speaks slowly, like he's trying to make a stupid child understand. "Put it back while he's in the shower."

Oh.

That's probably a good plan. 

When you just sit blankly and stare at your brother, he says with a laugh, "Well, go!

Right.

You shoot up from your seat, abandoning your noodles and knocking your chair back several feet as you scramble for your corner of the house. 

When you reach your room, you immediately run over to the bathroom door and press your ear to it, satisfied that you can hear the sound of running water echoing in the tiled room. 

You grab the book from where you had it hidden in one of your dresser drawers and stuff it under your shirt, just for good measure. 

Luke's bedroom door is unlocked, thankfully, and the room is empty and quiet. You barely peek your head in the door, checking.

Whew.

You were half-expecting Luke to be sitting on the bed and smirking at you as you walked in. Reassured by the gentle sound of the shower, you creep into his bedroom and gently shut the door behind you, just in case anyone else should wander down the hall and see you sneaking around his room.

It feels like it takes miles to get to the foot of his bed. The mattress collapses softly under your knees as you climb up on it, moving the pillows out of the way and you start to squeeze the book in the tiny space between the mattress and the wall.

As you're struggling to shove the rather thick book into the itty bitty slot, you hear it.

The click of the door.

As you go completely still in your kneeling position, you realize another thing that has horror crashing into the pit of your stomach.

The shower isn't running.

Oh heck.

Slowly, you spin around on your knees to face what you already know if behind you.

Like you were expecting, it's a slender, handsome man with an angular jaw and sinfully full lips that are quirked up into a little smirk. 

What you don't expect is his dress shirt from school, unbuttoned completely and offering a glimpse of a large sliver of his bare, muscular chest and tons of tanned smooth skin.

What you don't expect is his belt unbuckled, the weight of the loose ends dragging down the waistband of his slacks to reveal a white and grey Calvin Klein waistband.

What you don't expect is his hair to be completely, totally dry.

He never even got in the shower.

"Well. What do we have here?" Luke says softly, flashing that familiar obligatory smirk. The bedroom door lock clicks under his fingers as he twists it, sealing your doom.

Then he laughs.

"I think I've caught a little thief."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got two chapters for y’all because I love ya 🤍


	18. Talk It Out

You’re screwed. 

Crap.  
Crap.  
Crap.

Scrambling to even form a coherent thought when Luke’s half naked in front you, you somehow manage to make up a desperate plan in your mind. 

The book is on the bed and your job is kind of accomplished, half of it anyway. You put the book back but you didn’t exactly go unnoticed. 

If you could just get to the bathroom door, you might be able to escape the incredibly sexy man slowly walking towards you, running his fingers through his soft brown hair and making his shirt gape open even wider. 

Ignoring your dry mouth, you lunge past Luke and make a run for the bathroom while you still have the opportunity.   
With a grunt, you slam into the wooden obstacle when it doesn’t open beneath your force. 

It’s locked. 

He planned this. 

“I was wondering when you would be brave enough to come in here and return that,” Luke says conversationally. “I was getting impatient, sitting in there with the shower running, waiting to hear my bedroom door close. You sure took your sweet ass time.”

The closer his voice gets, the faster your heart beats. You can almost feel his body heat radiating from across the empty space, an undeniable warning about the fire that’s sure to come if you get caught. 

You can’t get caught, holy crap. 

You’re blanching at the mere thought of what he’ll do. 

Yet.. 

At the same time, you wouldn’t mind finding out. 

nOooO you do not. Stop it! 

“Did you think i wouldn’t notice, Y/N?” He coos in a deliciously sweet voice. 

You turn around, back pressed to the bathroom doors you can locate where he is. He is close but not too close. Thank goodness. 

Far enough away to make a run for it. 

Distract him. 

“Luke” you say with a nervous laugh, holding your hands out in a defensive position. “I think we can talk about this. I’ll start, I’m sorry that I took your super secret book of dreams.” 

Luke stops, shoving his hands into his pockets, causing his pants to drag even lower, showing a bit of white below the grey band of his underwear. 

“Talk? You want to talk it out?” He purrs 

Is th-that a freckle on his gorgeous collarbone?  
No no no no you can think about that later. Get out now, fantasise later. 

“Talking is good,” you squeak. “Productive. Constructive.” 

“Boring-as-crap-ive.” Luke bites his bottom lip in a sort of mean-but-hot way. “I know a better way to work things out, baby.” 

It's like an electric shock to the brain. All of a sudden, visions from the dream book, of every drawing of the two of you together in between the leather-bound covers come flying like bullets through your brain. Your lips locked and your bodies twisted together and the two of you doing things that you don't even know what they are. 

Bad things, things that don't seem so bad if he is the one doing them to you. 

“Ah, you did look through it.” he says with a twitching grin. “I didn't know if you had gone through the whole thing, or maybe you grew a conscience before you could.” 

Ouch.

You give him a slight smile, but you think that your angry uncertainty is clear to see in it.   
Was that a sharp jab at you that sparks a hot glare of irritation in you? 

Yes it was. 

Was it totally deserved, considering you did exactly what he just said?

Yes, it was. 

You deserved that. 

“I have a solution!” you chirp in a wavering voice, swallowing the anger. 

He crosses his arms and cocks a hip, waiting and amused with your impending and apparently diplomatic suggestion.

Go time. 

“If you could just give me a chance to-” cutting yourself off mid-sentence, you dance around Luke and sprint for the bedroom door.

You get to the door and somehow manage to turn the lock, heart beating rapidly at the closeness of freedom. It's almost tangible, the safety of the waiting hallway just on the other side of the door.  
But you only manage to open it a tiny crack before a masculine hand smashes it closed. 

His hot breath slides down your skin as he breathes onto the back of your neck.   
With his other hand, he traps you into a cage of male muscle, keeping you where you are. 

His heat surrounds you, seeping through your skin to sink into your bones. A strip down your spine is warmer than anywhere else; that must be where is shirt is open. 

You slowly turn around. 

Facing him now, you look up into his burning brown eyes and feel the need to escape slowly disappearing into the air. 

“I got you” he purrs, but you don’t care. Because now that he has caught you, you kind of don’t want to leave. 

Before your flighty instincts disappear for good, you make a final, last ditch effort by breathing, “you aren’t allowed to touch me.”

He answers back, “And what makes you think I care?” 

You are glad he doesn’t. 

With that final thought, any desire to be out of the heady circle of Luke’s arms disappears and you’re left a soft, mushy ball of anticipation melting against the door. You lean back against the solid wood and raise your chin to look at him. 

You think your lips might be trembling in excitement, but you aren’t sure. 

This is the man who drew your brother with such loving detail. This is the man who beautifully sketched his roommates’ expressions as he loves to see them.   
This is the man you caressed the curve of your face and lips with lead. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Luke murmurs. “Why aren’t you angry?” 

Are you looking at him differently? It feels different.. 

There isn’t any hard and unyielding anger at the sight of his face, only a beautiful heat and warmth with knowing what kind of person he is at heart. 

You whisper, “Luke, you aren’t who I thought you were.” 

And he just.. stops. 

He stops breathing, stops blinking, stops all general motion. His eyes go blank and still, like he’s been frozen. 

Your stomach drops to your toes at his expression, oddly disappointed at his reaction.   
Isn't he gonna be flattered and kiss me? Or maybe he just wanted something physical, and the possibility of you developing feelings for him is a no go?

You frown, snapping slightly in front of his face. 

“Luke?” 

He breathes again, inhaling for a second in order to exhale. “I’m not allowed to touch you. I think you should go. 

I think you should go?!

“Oh.” You say shortly. He just rejected you, and it’s sort of a bad feeling. Sort of like he just crushed you like an ant under a boot, then chopped you into tiny pieces and threw you under a passing truck. 

So you simply say, “See you at school.” And you walk out like the awkward penguin you are. 

No, what is it that Alex calls you? Awkward potato, that’s it. 

You’re just a blank, unthinking potato as you leave Luke’s room and go to yours, sitting on your bed. You stare at the wall. 

Did that just happen? 

After all this time of him initiating physical contact and flirtatious comments, he rejects you. 

What the fuck?

The more you think about it, the more upset you get. 

What the actual fuck?! 

You punch your pillow in frustration, throw it on the ground like a toddler throwing a fit. 

“What the fuck?” you hiss, blinking. You feel a tear drip down your cheek and swipe it away angrily. Picking up the pillow, you throw it onto your bed. Forcing these words through gritted teeth. “What. the. Hell. Luke. Fucking. Patterson. 

As if summoned, said idiotic man bursts through the door, scaring the crap out of you and making you jump to your feet. 

“Luke?” you ask in confusion when you see the hard look in his eyes. His gorgeous face is alight with some kind of inner determination, cheeks flushed, lips apart. 

He’s beautiful.

You glare at him in anger when he starts to stride towards you, snapping, “Go away. There are rules.” 

He takes your arms in his hands and pulls you to him, ignoring your angry struggles as he presses your body to his. 

“Screw the rules, I want you Y/N Mercer.” 

He then simultaneously lifts you as he smashes his lips against yours. 

Screw the rules, I want you too Luke Patterson.


	19. Lessons

Luke sighs against your mouth and tries to deepen the kiss, holding your jaw in one hand, but all you can do is clutch the front of his shirt uselessly. 

Screw the rules.  
I want you too, Luke. Except.. I don’t really know how to do this. Surprise! 

Before Luke made such a dramatic show of bursting through your door and kissing the crap out of you, you probably should’ve shared one tiny, important detail with him. 

You’ve never been kissed before and you have no idea what you’re doing. 

As his luscious lips move against yours in some sort of an attempt to get you to respond, you’re unsure of what to do. You want to be involved and kiss him back, but you’re just not totally positive how to. So you try to copy the movements that Luke is doing but you just start to feel like you look like a gaping fish. 

Luke stops kissing you all together and pulls back with a frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. There’s a kind of uncertain vulnerability in his face at your lack of response, which you want to quickly expel from expression. “Why won’t you kiss me back?” 

He doesn't wait for an answer and dives back in, biting your bottom lip before gently sucking. 

You try puckering your lips while trying to match how his lips more, but you just feel stupid. This is so humiliating. Luke pulls out of the kiss with frustration plain on his face. You can see the gears in his head turning as he looks at you, that's when you see the light bulb go off in his eyes. 

“You don’t know how to kiss” he laughs in disbelief. 

As much as you want to be angry with him, the strong emotion is fighting with the flood of utter embarrassment rushing through you. Here he probably thought the two of you would have this long, passionate make out session but your dumbass had to go and ruin it. 

Luke keeps laughing at you. These little irritating little chuckles just continuously fall out of his mouth at your expense,, making the anger win over the embarrassment. 

You slap his arms away from you, ignoring his still half bare chest as your hand brushes against it. 

“Get out!” you cry. 

“No, baby, no.” Luke catches you around the waist as you try to get away from him, reeling you back into his body like a fish on a lure. 

“I'm sorry” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He lays his head on your shoulder. “It just surprised me.” 

“Alex calls me an innocent potato for a reason.” you scoff, trying to hold strong against his touch. “Now let me go.” 

He hums and holds you tighter, breathing in your ear, “I just forgot. In my dreams those pretty lips of yours knew how to do more than just kiss.” 

Oh. 

Well, now you are the addictive colour of a fire engine. 

“I’m kind of happy, actually.” he continues in a silky voice. You can feel his hands settle on your hips and begin rubbing up and down your sides, making you shiver. 

“W-why?” you whisper. “Why would you be happy?” 

With a dark laugh, Luke softly traces his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck. A tiny gasp escapes your parted lips at the feeling. “Because” he moans. “That means that I’m the man who gets to teach my baby girl everything she needs to know.”

“oh” you squeak. 

Luke uses his hands on your sides to spin you around so you’re facing him, your arms hanging limply beside you. 

“Alright Ms. Mercer,” Luke says with a sexy grin, licking his lips. “Lesson number one: the basic kiss.” 

Hold up now. 

“Um, Luke? Do you remember when we first met and Reggie was all like ‘you’re Y/N teacher? Kicky’. Well, you're sort of making that come true now.” you say laughing nervously. 

Your teacher bits his lip. “Kicky can be fun sweetheart, but you have to learn how to kiss first.” 

“That's not what I-” you are cut off mid-sentence by Luke’s hand slapping over your mouth. 

“I’m going to kiss you again, okay?” he tilts your chin up with a single finger. “Just copy what I do to you.” 

Luke leans in, ever so gently settling his thick lips against yours. He moves slowly first holding the top lip between his, then the bottom, then wholly encompassing your mouth with his. His lips move against you in a soft sensual way and you do your best to make him. He hums in approval.

Taking your bottom lip between his, his sucks, surrounding you in a warm heat that makes you whimper. After he releases you he draws back and hovers there, as if he was waiting for you to do something.

Waiting. 

You experimentally trap the soft the fullness of his lower lip and apply gentle suction to it. He moans quietly and you blush at the noise.

“Good”, He whispers against you.

Luke kisses you fully again, but this time he tilts head to the side so the fit of your mouths together deepens and widens, boosting the warmth and a pleasure. His hands compass your waist, pulling you against him, and you hesitantly place your close fist on his shoulders with the motion. 

“It’s okay to touch me, baby,” he murmurs with a gentle, closed mouth peck. “I want you to.” 

Okay. Deep breaths. 

You can do this, Y/N.

As you unconfidently kiss Luke again, you allow your hands to slide down his neck and trace the muscles of his shoulders through the thin, unbuttoned dress shirt. They’re firm and so warm, even with the fabric between you, and you like how they flex and roll against your palms. 

Gaining confidence from Luke’s gentle exhale against your mouth, you experimentally run your hands back up his neck and burrow your fingers in his silky brown hair. 

This prompts him to take back control of your kiss, smoothly directing your mouth to open even wider. Luke kisses you with a new kind of ferocity, his hands crushing your body to his until you’re afraid you’re about to pass out from lack of oxygen. 

He finally lets you go, holding your waist as the two of you pant heavily and try to catch your breath. 

“Good news,” he huffs between breaths. “You’re a natural.” 

You laugh at that, throwing your head back. When you lift your head back up, Luke’s standing there, staring at you with this look in his eyes that you can’t identify. 

Then he says, “Are you ready?” 

“For what?” you reply. 

His hand is suddenly tangled in your hair and yanking you forward with so much force that you crash into his chest, the only thing keeping you upright being his other arm hooking once again around your waist. 

“For lesson two” he says, smooth as silk. 

Why are you already blushing? 

But just as Luke’s pulling you in for another kiss, someone knocks loudly on your door. 

“Y/N? You in there?” 

Willie.

He threatened murder if he found the two of you touching again. 

You and Luke both scramble to sit on the bed, you pulling a random textbook off the floor and throwing it open to a page while Luke attempts to fix his hair that was ruffled by your fingers and quickly doing the buttons up on his shirt and fixes his pants and belt. 

When you both non suspicious and presentable with plenty of space between you, you call out, 

“It’s open. You can come in.” 

Willie slouches into the room, shuffling through the mail. 

“Here's a letter for you. I think it might be your parents and- Luke. What are you doing in here?” 

The second that the other man notices his fluffy headed housemate’s presence, he goes still. His eyes narrow down to almost nothing, and your heart is pounding. 

“We are doing homework.” Luke answers casually. With a quick glance at the textbook, he further confirms, “Calculus, she asked for help.” 

He doesn’t buy it for a moment. You can see it in Willie’s eyes as he stares the two of you down; the disbelief in your story. You’re afraid that Willie’s just too sly to be deceived by the two of you. 

But then he says, “Okay well, you should stop. It’s getting late.” You almost explode from the relief. 

“Sure thing. Let me leave this formula with her, then I'll go.” Luke scribbles a note on a sticky pad from your desk, then slaps it on the book page. 

He leaves without another word, walking out through the bedroom door that he burst through only moments ago. 

Willie grabs the note and looks it over, then sighs and returns it to you. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” he grumbles, following Luke out with the rest of the mail. 

When Willie leaves you carefully look at the note. 

Below some random scribbled numbers and letters is written a seemingly innocent quote. 

Good job today, Y/N, but we didn’t get to finish. Lesson Two starts tomorrow. 

You blush just thinking about it. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah now Luke calm down it’s getting hot in here 🥵🥵


	20. Why a Supply Closet?

“Hi, Y/N!” 

You jump in your seat, screeching in surprise when a loud voice breaks you out of your concentrative state. The book you're reading skids a little across your desk. 

Glancing to the side, you reel back when you find a face centimeters from yours. 

Nick Carlson? 

The blonde boy normally sits on the other side of the classroom. Far, far away from you. He also doesn’t normally speak with you with that massively loud, exuberant voice. You can’t say you were sad about that arrangement. 

“Hi Nick.” you say politely, returning to your book immediately after. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the hint. 

“Can I sit by you from now on?” 

Ouch.

You wince and rub your ear slightly. Why is his voice so damn loud?

“You want to sit next to me?” you asked surprised. “Why?” 

Nick gives you a slow, sweet smile that makes his intentions very clear. 

“Ryan got boring,” he breathes. “Plus, you’re a lot prettier than him.” 

Taking a look for yourself, you can spy an unhappy Ryan pouting in his seat across the room, the empty one beside him telling the story of his friend’s betrayal. 

You sigh. “Nick…” 

Before you can politely reject the boy, Luke calls the class to attention and starts the roll call. When he gets to Nick and the voice comes from beside you instead of Nick’s usual place, Luke lifts his head and stares at the two of you. 

“Changing seats, Mr Carlson?” Luke asks soberly. 

Nick grins at him, slyly sliding his arm along the back of your chair as he sits back. 

“I’m making some changes,” he tells your teacher.

Luke’s jaw clenches. 

Crap. He’s pissed. 

“Nick, please stop,” you quietly whisper to him as Luke reluctantly continues with roll call. You can feel the brunette’s dark glare burning into you.   
“I have a boyfriend.” 

The lie made Nick pause, thank goodness. He looks at you, perplexed, and runs a hand through his blonde hair. 

“A boyfriend?” he says slowly. “I’ve never seen you with one.” 

“Well I have one,” you answer back lamely. 

“Mr Calrson and Ms Mercer, if the two of you are going to flirt then please do it elsewhere.” 

The rest of the class laugh, not fully understanding the underlying anger in Luke’s statement. He’s gripping the list of students tightly as he gives you a look that promises reconciliation. 

You gulp and scoot farther away from Nick. 

“I don’t believe you,” Nick murmurs a couple of minutes later. 

What the heck?! Take a hint! 

“Nick,” you groan in exasperation. 

“Ms Mercer? I asked you to stop talking in my class. Detention.” Luke glowers tightly at you and you shudder. 

You think this might be the first genuine detention he’s ever given you. 

Lesson two? 

No, he might just outright murder you instead. 

Nick actually leaves you alone for the rest of class, which manages to dampen Luke’s fury a tiny bit. That doesn’t stop the feeling of dread in your chest when the final bell rings and you realise you are the only one who got detention today. 

Where Carrie and the unnamed boy are, you have no idea.

All you know is that you and your teacher are completely alone in the room, and he’s currently closing the door as he loosens his toe with jerky, angry movements. 

That may have something to do with the wink Nick threw you on his way out. 

But you aren’t sure why Luke is getting so angry; it’s not like Nick did anything but sit and talk to you. 

Without looking at you, Luke strides to the supply closet and opens the door. 

“Come here, Y/N.”

You shiver at his dark voice, hesitant. 

When he sees your reluctance to move towards him, Luke growls low in his chest and prowls towards you with heavily frustrated steps. 

You yelp when he reaches you and bends down, sliding his arms under your knees and lifting you out of your chair, bridal style. 

“Luke!” you screech with your arms around his neck, clinging to him. “Put me down, you’re going to drop me.”

He doesn’t listen, holding you to him as he stomps into the dark closet and shuts the door behind you, not turning on the light. It's disorienting when he sets you on your feet in the dark. You don't know where he is, or the wall, or the door; heck, you don't even know where you are. A pair of hands grasps your waist out of nowhere, crushing you against a rock hard chest. 

“Did you have fun with Nick today?” His voice is hard and unyielding. 

You try to answer, but he smashes his mouth to yours, cutting off your voice. You gasp at how aggressive he's being, hands roaming all over and tugging you as close as physically possible. He bites your lip, hard, and tugs on your hair so your neck arches back and you involuntarily deepen the kiss.  
His lips are bruisingly forceful against yours. Too rough. He's being too rough, too angry. You love his touch and the feeling of him but he's not doing this because he wants to kiss you.

He's punishing you.   
Luke pushes you back until your spine slams into the wall and presses himself against you, intentionally pushing his hips into yours in a way that makes your will power start to melt away.  
He's devouring you in as many ways as he can at one time. 

"Luke!" you huff the second that he leaves your mouth for a breath. 

Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and you can see his face, vaguely able to judge his expression.

"What are you doing? Stop!" 

"Stop?" he laughs bitterly. "What, you want me to stop so I don't take anything that you want Nick Carlson to have?"

Glaring at him, you put as much distance between the two of you as his arms will allow, which isn't much.

“What?! No, this doesn't have anything to do with Nick!" 

You stop, looking at him as he breathes hard through his nose and watches you with angry eyes. But they aren't really angry, you realize. It's something else. 

"You're jealous," you whisper, trying to stop the corners of your mouth from rising into a smile.

Luke blinks in the darkness. "I'm not," he denies immediately.

You giggle, covering your swollen mouth with one hand. 

"Y/N," Luke hisses. Even though you aren't positive because if he dim lighting, you think he might be blushing. 

"You are jealous," you say. "But it's okay; you don't have to be. I told Nick that I have a boyfriend." 

Luke scoffs, slipping his arm around your waist and pouting. "That won't stop him from trying," he mumbles. 

"Probably not," you admit. "He didn't believe me."

Luke's arms go still around you, then tighten so you're once again pressed hard to his chest. "Then we'll just have to make him believe you," the brunette says. 

His fingers travel down to your elbows, lifting your arms so they're wrapped around his neck in the same position that you left off on yesterday in your bedroom. 

"What? How?" you ask in confusion. Nick seemed pretty determined; you're not sure if there's anything you can do to make him give up.

"Today, we'll have a combined lesson," Luke says as he runs a hand through his thick hair, disheveling it so it's messy and sexy. His thick lips are set in a luscious grin. 

"Lessons Two and Three together, Ms. Mercer. To run Nick Carlson off of my baby girl."

His baby girl?

You're about to protest being called that, but Luke places a single finger against your lips and says, 

"But we have to review first."

"Wait!" you pipe as he begins to lean in for a kiss.

"What?" he sighs impatiently.

You point upward curiously. "Why are we in the supply closet?"

"Privacy for an extended period of time," he tells you. "These will take a good while."

"Isn't a little cliche though?" you laugh. Luke sets his hands on your hips and cocks one eyebrow high.

“Baby, we're more than a little cliche. You're the sister of my best friend, I'm your teacher, and we started out as each other's worst enemies. That's three that I can count on the spot."

You consider this, nodding. "I guess that's true."

Luke smiles, gently pressing you against the wall again and lowering his head to your eye level.

"Shut up, Y/N," he chuckles. "Can I continue my lesson now?"

"If you insist," you sniff delicately. 

And he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoh luke is getting a bit steamy 🥵


End file.
